


Team Building

by yanagi



Series: Tony!SEAL verse [10]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-12-05 11:56:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 57,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11577594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yanagi/pseuds/yanagi
Summary: The NCIS team has been avoiding a Team Building and Sensitivity Seminar for years. Now, HR has caught up with them. Tony's sure this is going to turn out badly. How badly, no one could guess.





	Team Building

Jake ... Jordre.  
Since I wrote this for NaNo and just bored ahead with gay abandon, I know it needs a bit here and there about the search. Just stick in what ever you think it needs as a comment and I’ll fill it out. The only experience I have is in foot and ATV search for lost/injured hunters and tourists who’ve wandered off.

also, when you divide up for the chapters we have to keep it under 10k, or FF and LJ both choke on it. (stupid FF has changed things again. I used to post 15k without a problem, LJ always choked on anything larger than about 10k. )

Okay, finished chapter divisions. There seemed to be some natural break point, so I went with those when possible. That's why chapter 1 is shorter than the rest. They worked out as follows:

Chapter1 89kb 2868 words 6pages  
Chapter 2 106kb 5085 words 11pg   
Chapter 3 117kb 6095 words 13pg  
Chapter 4 125kb 6027 words 12pg  
Chapter 5 124kb 7078 words 14pg  
Chapter 6 112kb 6413 words 14pg  
Chapter 7 119kb 6023 words 13pg  
Chapter 8 116kb 6457 words 13pg  
Chapter 9 112kb 5818 words 12pg  
Chapter 10 117kb 6475 words 14pg

Of course, these figures also include comments, corrections, etc., but not the big block of info at the beginning of chapter 8. Anyhoo, here you go; and we absolutely Loved it. So typical of the type to not learn from their experiences. jordre.

And Jake adds that this is great, it's like getting an ARC from publishers, like BAEN does for their authors... only we get to correct the mistakes, which makes it better. *g*

 

Team Building.

 

Chapter one

 

Leroy Jethro Gibbs was not a happy Marine. “AJ, damn it, we’ve got that fucking Sensitivity and Team Building Seminar to go to. Starting at ...” he squinted at the paper. “0930 Monday.”

Tony sighed, this was not going to be fun. “Who’s supposed to attend?”

“You, me, Tim, Jimmy, and Abby. Ducky gets a pass due to his age and occupation. And there’s a note not to include any non-NCIS personnel. Your pod is out.” Gibbs wasn’t fond of that particular idea as he had gotten used to the rest of Tony’s SEAL team hanging around the bullpen.

Tony shrugged. “Good luck with that. You know they’re gonna hang around and kibitz, no matter what anyone says.”

Gibbs smirked. “You know that and I know that. But ‘they’ don’t know that. I’ll try to keep the animals away as much as possible, maybe tell them only one at a time.”

“I’ll help. Take someone on the mats, maybe.” Tony snickered at the thought of the horror of some over-enthusiastic tree-hugger learning about his usual discipline methods. 

Tim, who’d been standing by listening in, snickered. “They’ll crap a pile and crawl under it. Those ...” he waved a hand, at a loss to describe that particular mind set required to be a seminar leader: part sanctimonious prude, part supercilious busybody.

Gibbs nodded. “True. But ...” he had a sly expression in his eyes. “I intend to have some fun with this. I hate this sort of thing. What do those ivory tower asshat REMF POG’s know about anything.”

“No idea.” Tony turned to Tim. “I need you to be sure that Abby understands that she can’t wear ...” he rubbed his face, “anything she’s used to. Platform boots are out for sure. And no flirty skirts. Please.”

Tim frowned. “Maybe Jet would be a better choice?”

Gibbs shook his head, “Oh, no. No, you do not wish that off on me. I’m no one to judge women’s clothing.”

Dean wandered by just then. “Well, no man actually is. It’s safer to just say, ‘Love it. Makes you look good,’ and run.” He settled, hipshot, on the edge of Tony’s desk. “AJ, you look like you bit into something rotten. What’s the what?”

“Seminar. We’ve been dodging it for ... a couple of years, at least. Now we’re caught. And the seminar coordinator has ... requested that you all be ... exempted.”

Remy, who was parked at a desk on the other side of the partition, called over, “In other words, SEALs not welcome. Good luck with that one.”

The way the bullpen was arranged put six desks in the bullpen and three on the other side of the partition on the elevator side. There were also two under the stairs. No one liked these desks and they were referred to as ‘purgatory’ or ‘limbo’. Gibbs sent those he was displeased with to sit there. And visitors that he didn’t like.

Tony grabbed the phone and called Ducky. “Ducky, I need Jimmy in Abby’s lab as soon as it’s convenient.”

Ducky, relieved that he didn’t have to do the much-too-active-for-him seminar, agreed to send Jimmy and hung up. “James, you’re needed in Abigail’s lab. Plans for that cursed seminar. Waste of time, if you ask me, which you didn’t. But still. I can think of a dozen things you could be doing that are much more useful.”

Jimmy nodded his agreement and said, “Including making tea or inventorying ... anything. Well, I’ll get going. If you need help, please call Director Vance to ask for it,” he smirked, “Just so he knows that it was needed.”

Ducky, who’d been about to protest, got a sly smile on his face and nodded. “Indeed, my boy, just the thing. Well, off with you.”

Jimmy finished washing his hands and grabbed a couple of paper towels, drying his hands on the way out the door. “See you in a bit.” He elbowed the door open and hurried off.

.

Abby read her email every morning. This morning she was still staring at the email when her phone rang. “Labby. The lab of Abby.”

“Abby, we’ll be down in a few to discuss things. Do not flip out.” Tony wasn’t putting up with one of Abby’s fits. She was much better, now that Ziva was not adding fuel to the fire, but she still tended to explode from time to time.

“Okay, but ... seriously ... sensitivity and team building? What the hell? I mean, we’re a team, we don’t need building and, if they think I’m going to do any of that fall over backwards stuff, they’re nuts. Not that I don’t trust you, because I do, but what if you miss? Really. Just no.” Abby paced, waving her hands around.

Tim trapped her in a corral of himself, Gibbs, and Jimmy. “Abby, calm down. It’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad? Are you nuts? This is awful. You know that ... it’s ...” she let out a little scream of frustration. “Not good.”

Gibbs sighed, “Abby.” He grabbed her flailing hands and said, “Calm down. It’ll be okay. We just have to put up with some ivory tower, craptastic pseudo-intellectual fucktard.”

Tony snickered, “Oh, Boss, don’t hold back. Just tell us how you really feel.” 

Tim shook his head. “It’s one of those things that someone who’s never been in the field will think up. Build trust, enforce teamwork. Make sure we don’t damage some delicate flower’s sensitivities. That sort of thing.”

Abby grumbled then produced chairs for everyone. “The Pod coming?”

Tony shook his head. “No, they’ve been expressly excluded from the training. Not that any of us need it, but it’d be nice if there was a bit more moral support. Seriously. I’d rather go through SERE again.”

Gibbs thought about that for a moment. “Not that sure about that.”

Remy settled on a counter edge. “Not supposed to be here, but suck it up and deal.”

Tony shrugged. “Didn’t say you couldn’t be here, just that you’re not supposed to come to the seminar. Not ... supposed to,” he smirked. 

Dean flopped down on the floor and said, “Seriously, AJ, think you’re gonna keep us out if we want in?”

Tony poked Abby in the shoulder with one finger. “Who is running this freak show?”

Abby glowered at Cosmo until he vacated her chair, then sat down to bring up the file that the organizer had sent Gibbs. “Well ...” she scrolled through the document muttering, “names, names ... they have to have names.” She stopped, scanned a few lines, then barked, “A-ha! Gotcha. Flower Fields and Bright Sommers.” Abby blinked then announced. “I don’t like them already. What sort of drugged-out hippy, flower-child jack shit names their child something like Flower or Bright? Seriously.”

Tony, Dean and Cosmo couldn’t have answered even if they wanted to. They were laughing so hard they couldn’t breathe. Gibbs was actually slackjawed, Remy was blank-faced, and Tim and Jimmy were just plain stunned into silence.

Abby eyed them with disgust, then snarled, “Okay, yuck it up, assholes. Just you wait. Those flower-child touchy-feely fruitcakes will have us doing all sorts of embarrassing things. I’m not going.” She crossed her arms over her chest and gave one jerky nod. 

Tim glanced at Gibbs then said, “Abbs, we all have to go. We’ll all be together in our misery.”

Jimmy nodded. “At least ... well.” He scowled then grumbled, “I already have to deal with HIPAA; now I have to deal with this, too? Fuck.”

Abby frowned, distracted, which was Jimmy’s intent. “Does that even apply to dead people?”

“It actually does, and it drives Ducky, and me, nuts. You wouldn’t believe what hoops we have to jump through just to give agents information they need. Do not get Ducky started, he’ll go all Scottish on you.” Jimmy grinned. “His accent gets so thick I can’t even understand him.”

Gibbs nodded. “I remember one time ... he got so mad over something that he actually started ranting in Gaelic. That was interesting.” He chuckled. “I learned a few new words.”

Remy smirked, “That’s something, especially for a jarhead.”

Cosmo leaned over Abby to look at the document. “Um ... did any of you notice that this thing isn’t in DC?”

Abby scrolled down a bit then gave another little shriek. “Oh. My. God. We have to go to Montana? No way. Not a chance. I hate Montana. It’s all up hill, cold, and way too green. I don’t like country anything. No, just no.”

A flat voice from the door startled them all by saying, “Miss Sciuto you will go. HR is adamant that anyone who does not attend the mandatory Sensitivity and Team Building Seminar will be suspended without pay until they do.” Director Vance made a face. “And there’s nothing I can do about it. SecNav insists.” He scowled at her. “And do realize that this one is entirely on you. After all, it was your inappropriate hugging habits that injured LtCmd DiNozzo.” He sighed, “And I had to take one before any of you, so suck it up and deal.” He pointed at the SEALs individually. “And you three are not going. You’ve got things to do down at Yorktown, so don’t go getting any ideas.”

Gibbs scowled back at Vance. “This is ridiculous. Really.”

Director Vance nodded. “It is. But you try convincing those tree-hugging libtards that. Just go ... do ... get it over with. Pack and be ready to go wheels up on Monday. This is Friday, you can leave whenever you need. I’ve already taken you off rotation.” He eyed Abby. “And Miss Sciuto? I’d suggest you allow Gibbs or DiNozzo to pack for you. That goth is fine for the office but in the wilds of Montana? Don’t think so. And I do not want you coming back with a messed up ankle or something.” He grinned at a groaning Tony. “DiNozzo.” He turned and left, hoping that he got his MCRT and morgue assistant back in one piece, not to mention his best forensic scientist.

Abby, realizing that she was as stuck as she could be, slumped in her chair, “Well, shit.”

Tony decided now was the time for some rough love. “Sorry, Abby, but it really is your fault.” He held up a hand, “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me, but the fact is: you did. We managed to avoid this shit for two years, then you attracted HR’s attention by basically standing on a desk and screaming in their faces. So, suck it up and deal. I’ll be over to your place tonight to help you pack.” He shook his head. “Tonight. And I mean it. I know you won’t have everything, or maybe anything, you need, so we’ll go over things tonight and go shopping tomorrow. I’m taking my go bag. Jet?”

“Me too.” Gibbs scowled in thought. “Might actually take a full field pack. Jimmy? Tim?”

Jimmy nodded. “I’ve been running with mine since we set it up for SEAL training. I’ll bring it with the addition of an extra set of underwear.”

Tim considered for a moment. “I’ll bring mine too. But I’m bringing my smart phone and tablet, no matter what they say. They don’t like it, they can get fucked. I’m not going to be out of contact for anyone. But I will leave my tablet alone, unless I need it for something. I think we ought to go over our packs and make them more mission-specific.”

Tony nodded. “Good idea. Do some research tonight and find out what conditions we should be facing this time of year.”

Tim had his tablet out and was making notes.

Remy sighed, “I don’t like this. I don’t like you going off without me. Last time that happened ...” he scowled at his boot toes. “Wasn’t good.”

Tony nodded. The last time he and Remy had been separated, he’d gotten captured and tortured. Remy had never let command live that one down.

“It won’t be that bad. I’ll still be State-side. But I want you to duplicate all Tim’s research.”

Tim glanced up but didn’t protest. It wasn’t that unusual for a CO to have two of his people do the same research, then compare results.

Gibbs just watched in pleasure as his 2IC did what he did best. He’d have a look-over at the plans, but he expected them to be perfect.

Tony noticed and smirked. Dean noticed too, but said sadly, “You do know that no plan survives first contact with an enemy, right?”

Tim nodded. “I do.”

Gibbs finished the thought. “But it’s better to start out with a plan than do the whole damn shootin’ match by the seat of your pants.”

Cosmo agreed. “Right. It’s nice to have a plan B and even C. That way you might have the gear you need.”

Tony thought for a moment then said, “Need rope, and pitons, and ... climbing gear in general. I’m sticking in an extra pair of gloves.”

They were just beginning to make a list when Max Undine, NCIS Psychologist, tapped on the door, then came in. “Well, why are we all hiding down here? It doesn’t seem very ... friendly. We do all want to be friends, don’t we?” 

Tony eyed Max with complete disfavor. Max was flamingly gay, but that wasn’t why he was avoided whenever possible. He was aggressively friendly and cheerful, and that was why. He’d been great help with Ziva, but he was generally disliked by most agents, as he was a royal pain in the ass. His insistence that talking would help everything was annoying; he, like most psychologists and psychiatrists, didn’t seem to understand that there was a time and place for talking, and a time and place for processing. Most people had to process before they were ready to talk, and some people took longer than others. None of the ones working in HR seemed to understand that. It gained them a reputation for being pushy and rude. Note that Max didn’t wait to be invited in.

Gibbs eyed Max then said, with creditable patience, “We’re not hiding. We’re down here making plans for the seminar. Do you know how we’re supposed to get there?”

“Oh, well ... beginning your exercises early? That’s good. As to getting there, I believe that Director Vance made arrangements for you to fly.” Max really wasn’t sure how they were supposed to get to the retreat. “But ...” he waved that concern away, flapping his hands airily. “you’ll be meeting your counselors right here. They have all the tickets and know where you’re supposed to be going.” He patted Gibbs on the head absently, gaining himself a glower and several horrifiedly astounded looks as he left.

Gibbs snarled at Max’s back. “Ass. I swear, if I knew how to do it, I’d make arrangements of my own.”

Abby glanced at Tim who smirked back. “Okay. Tell us what you want and we’ll get it.”

Gibbs looked from Tim to Abby, then glanced at Tony. Jimmy just shrugged. “Okay, first we need to get from DC to Montana. C-130 headed that way would be nice. A great team-building exercise, don’t cha think?”

Tony choked on a sip of his coffee. “Boss, you’re vicious.”

“So?” Gibbs chuckled darkly. “Then we have to get from ... probably Helena ... up to the retreat. Small aircraft of some sort.”

Tony nodded. “I know we can get an air taxi, if there’s an airport near the retreat. Abby?”

“On it.” Abby turned to her computer and quickly found that there was a suitable landing strip about six miles from the retreat. It was private, but the owner allowed the retreat to use it for a fee per landing. 

Gibbs nodded to Tim. “Found anything?”

Tim chuckled. “Oh, yes. We can catch a flight from Quantico to Denver International that’s actually a point-to-point. No stops for off-loading or pick-ups. No idea why, but I got seven boarding passes. Then we need a hop from there to Helena, and an air taxi to Glacier National Park. We’ll have to manage our own luggage, but that’s usual. Good?”

Gibbs snorted. “We don’t need help with a backpack.”

Tim glanced at Jimmy, who snickered. “You talk.” 

Jimmy shrugged. “Okay. See, I know that sort of person. They’re ... entitled, for lack of a better word. They’ll need help with a carry-on. And I bet Flower packs like she’s headed for six months in Outer Mongolia. Five.” He looked around, hoping someone would take his five-dollar bet. No one even looked like they were thinking of it.

They fiddled around for another few minutes, making plans to get together at GHQ Saturday afternoon or Sunday, to make sure everyone had the proper gear, and just get mentally ready to be harassed, judged, harangued, and generally annoyed. 

. 

Chapter two

Tony sighed as he pulled into his parking spot. “Well, Tim, start looking.”

Tim eyed the pack of teen and early-twenties boys and nodded. “Okay, ought to just take the hit and move out.”

“Yeah; how many weeks left in the lease?” He considered the fine for breaking the lease early and decided that their stuff was worth the fine.

Tim opened the door to their apartment while Tony kept eyes behind. “Not sure. I’ll look it up in a minute.”

Tony just replied, “You do that while I start supper. What do you want?”

Tim, already engrossed in research, mumbled, “Food.” He glanced up at Tony’s aggravated grunt. “I think there’s makin’s for Carbonara, and we need to use up the milk, eggs, and veggies.”

Tony brightened. He loved to cook, but hated the same things most housewives hated. If you said anything, he’d pin you down, give you a list, and make you pick. The only time Tim was stupid enough to say nothing, that’s exactly what he’d gotten. Tony had made himself a hamburger and given Tim an empty plate. That cured him of that particular behavior.

Tony cooked and Tim did computer things. “Okay, all done. We have all the tickets for our trip, including tickets for Flower and Bright. I cancelled the other reservations. As to our lease...” he paused to shovel a forkful of spaghetti into his mouth. He chewed while Tony went over their flight plans. 

Tony snickered then said, “Well, that’s as good as it’s gonna get. How the hell did you manage a Huey from Denver to Helena?”

Tim shrugged. “Just used my Dad’s name and rank. Serves him right.” He nodded. “Remy and I had a little conversation. I wouldn’t use his name for myself, but this isn’t personal business, it’s team.”

“Oh ... good.” Tony swiped the tablet to turn the page. “Huh ... didn’t realize the lease was that near up.”

Tim did a quick mental calculation while Tony chewed. “Okay, it’s two months before the lease is up. We’ll be gone two weeks. I say we give up the lease now, have that buddy of yours ... the retired ...” Tim waved his hand. “The one who owns a moving service.” Tony nodded his understanding. “Have him come, pack up everything and put it all in storage. We can live somewhere until we can find a place. What do you think?”

Tony just sighed. “I think you’re right. I’ll call Todd tomorrow. He’s a retired SEAL who specializes in emergency moving and storage for military families. I used him when I went Agent Afloat, only not.”

Tim sighed. “Right. We’ll have to tell Jet and the others tomorrow. Have any idea where we could go?”

Tony nibbled on a piece of garlic bread as he thought. “Well, if we were both in service, we could get officers quarters at Quantico. But, as you’re not, we’ll have to find something else.”

Tim poked at his salad as he thought. “You trust me?” Tony just glared. “Okay. Here’s the thing. I know a realtor. I trust her to find us at least six places up to our specs. I think we ought to get a house.”

Tony agreed, “Yeah, a house. Close to Jet. Or between his place and the gym.”

Tim typed requirements to the laptop he’d just retrieved from his desk. “Okay. Got that. What else?”

“At least three bedrooms. Good kitchen, not a galley. Something big enough to host everyone. Don’t really need a formal dining room, do we?” Tim shook his head and typed some more. “Laundry room on the ground floor, and a real pantry. Mud room?” Tim nodded. The weather in DC was relatively mild, but a mud room would keep mess out of the house. “Don’t really want a split level. You?”

“Four bedrooms, so we can turn one into an office. That’ll let us work when one person has work and the other wants to watch tv or something. And a really big living room so there’ll be room for your piano. And get someone professional to move that monster.” Tim typed for a minute. “And a basement so you can have room for your gunsmithing. You are forbidden, however, to build a fucking boat. Just no.” Tony snickered at that and went on eating. “Big back yard, fenced. I want a garden. And enough front yard that we don’t feel on display every time we walk out the front door.” He finished typing and pushed the computer over to Tony. “Read and approve.”

Tony read. The requirements were simple: big fenced yard, big farm-style kitchen, four good size bedrooms, laundry room, pantry, living area big enough for Tony’s piano, or a dining room to turn into a music room, mud room, deep front porch, semi-finished basement, attached two-car garage. He approved. “You know the rent is gonna be killer.”

“Not really. I checked; we’re paying 1800 between the two of us. 2200 will get us a house like that. If we buy it, the payments will be about what the rent is now. And we’ll be getting equity.”

They’d had one real argument over living together. Tim wanted to buy something and Tony didn’t. After the yelling and door slamming was over, Tony asked Tim to explain. After Tim was done explaining that he wanted to buy so they would build up some equity, Tony apologized and they had started looking. Now, they were under some pressure, for which they were totally responsible. 

Tim emailed their requirements and timeline to his friend, then returned to his meal.

When they were finished eating, they did the dishes together, wondering what their seminar would be like. Tony was of the opinion that it would be one of those touchy-feely hippy-dippy things that they all despised. Tim was hoping for something more useful. He ended by saying rather mournfully, “I just hope it isn’t an unmitigated disaster. Can you imagine someone trying to get Jet to meditate?”

Tony just moaned, “Oh, my God. No, just ...” he trailed off shaking his head.

Tony was well aware that Gibbs would do just so much and not an iota more. He’d managed to get him to do Tai Chi and yoga, but meditation and centering exercises were just not on the bill. Tony had to snicker a bit at the thought of Gibbs, seated in Lotus and chanting some mantra or other.

Tim, well aware of the train of Tony’s thoughts, snickered too. “Tony ... no, Jet and mantras...” They both had to quit working to keep from dropping a dish or something, they were laughing too hard to continue.

They continued to chuckle every now and then after they got it back together enough to finish the dishes and clean the kitchen.

Tony wiped down the table then folded the towel and put it in the laundry. “Well, that’s that.” He settled on the couch. “I’ll admit that I’m not looking forward to tomorrow.”

Tim made a rude sound in his throat. “I’ll bet. Shopping trip with Abby ... good luck keeping her from buying four-inch platform Dumbledore’s Army boots.”

Tony moaned at that. “They really make such a thing?”

“No idea. But, if they do, Abby’ll have to have them.” Tim eyed his phone, which was beeping insistently. “I better get this, it’s my friend.”

Tim put his phone on the table on speaker. “Hey, Fran, got my email?”

“I did.” The disembodied voice continued, “I have at least three places that I think might suit. Two are condos with home owners associations, the last one is in an older neighborhood. But the place is really nice. I’ll keep looking. I know you’re on a timeline, but I can find you a place in two to three weeks. If you need anything sooner, you’re out of luck.”

Tony thought. “No home owners association. No renters guild. None of that crap. And I play piano, so no apartment or condo. Tim?”

Tim nodded. “Tony’s right. I don’t think we care about the age, it’s the condition that’ll kill the sale. I don’t care if it’s two years old or two hundred. Location is important, I don’t fancy an hour drive into the Yard.”

“Okay. Got it in one. And the fact that age isn’t a consideration leaves me with several choices that are nearer the Yard than you might think. One is a Wright and a bit expensive, but the payments won’t be that much. And there's an ultra-modern concrete and steel thing that has great grounds, it’s just hideous.”

Tony sighed. “Is the Wright a real Frank Lloyd Wright or just one of those things build off one of his published floor plans?”

“I don’t know, but I’ll find out.” They heard a scratching sound that indicated Fran was making notes.

Tim asked, “The concrete and steel thing. What do you mean by hideous?”

“It’s ultra-modern, open floor plan. Very nice but it’s ... a bit Swedish and square. Very big windows and some sky lights. Kitchen is huge and open to the living area. I’m not sure you’ll like it as there wouldn’t be any office, and no place to get away from the piano. Should I mark it off?”

Tony glanced at Tim who made a face. “Probably. Tony’s good, really good, but he tends to practice at all hours of the day and night. Really need something with a studio.”

“I’ll put that on the list. I think I can find you something really nice, in an area you’ll like. Let me get to work. Bye.” A click indicated that Fran had hung up.

Tony eyed his watch. “Well, it’s 1900. I better get headed for Abby’s place before she packs every inappropriate outfit she owns.” He groaned as he stood up. “Not looking forward.”

Tim chuckled. “Shouldn’t laugh but ...” he shrugged. “I am. Better you than me.”

Tony made a face. “Yeah. She can cry, pout, sulk and kick. I won’t cave. You, you big sissy, would.”

Tim just tried to pop Tony with the back of his hand. Tony dodged that and headed for the door.

.

Abby knew she was going to have to pack properly, but she wasn’t really sure what that would entail. She had bunches of things to wear, she did work Habitat for Humanity, but they tended to put up with her eccentricities just like NCIS did. Now she had to figure out what to take and what she needed to buy. She jumped when Tony just picked her lock and walked in.

“Damn it, Tony, scare me to death.” Abby pressed her hand to her chest.

“Sorry. You didn’t put the chain on.” Tony settled on the floor, cross legged.

“I never put the chain on. It’s not that good a lock. Okay. So, what should I take?” Abby eyed the piles of clothing with disgust.

Tony just started sorting through. “Ok, you’ve got a nice selection of t-shirts, just grab enough for one clean every day and a couple of extra. And this flannel ... and that one. You’ve got plenty of jeans, just make sure they’re not too tight. And you can wear a pair two days. Enough underwear for clean every day. And now ... boots.” He turned to the boots, neatly lined up against the wall. “Oh, man. Abby. Do you have anything that doesn’t have heels six inches high or platform everything?”

Abby bit her lip. “Um ... no?”

Tony sighed. “Abby, you’re ... what? Five ten?”

Abby nodded. “Something like that. Why?”

Tony poked her in the ribs to make her giggle. “You’re tall enough without platforms and heels. Seems like overkill.”

Abby tickled Tony back. “SEAL! Sacrilege! There’s no such thing as overkill, there’s just open fire and reload.”

Tony laughed then agreed, “True, too true. But you can’t wear any of those to this retreat. They’ll have us doing some stupid shit or other and you’ll break your neck. So ... tomorrow we go boot shopping.” Abby squealed and clapped her hands. “At a military surplus store.”

“Oh, boo.” Abby mock pouted, sticking out her lower lip.

“I’ll ride to town on that lip.” Tony scrambled to his feet. “And you need a regulation pack, that suitcase isn’t gonna cut it.”

Abby eyed her hard-side, wheeled suitcase and put her foot down. “I’m taking my suitcase. I spent plenty on it and I’m not wasting money on a pack. No.”

Tony, realizing he needed to pick his fights, just shrugged and said, “Okay, but you’re dealing with that thing yourself. I’m not making one of ... well, never mind. Damn it.”

Abby hugged Tony and said, “Aww. Tony-Baloney, what’s wrong?” She rubbed his back for a moment.

“I don’t know. The last time Remy and I got separated, I got captured, so I guess I’m just nervous. It’s stupid.”

“No it’s not. Last time you two were separated, bad things happened. I wouldn’t want to be separated from my battle buddy either. So, hug ... hug.” Tony hugged her. “Now get out of here so I can get some sleep. I know you’re gonna want to get an early start in the morning.” Abby scrambled up and tugged Tony to the door. “Scat.”

Tony scatted. He was going to have to make sure that Abby had a kit, and he knew he was going to have to convince her. And boots. That was going to be a real nightmare. Abby’s taste in footwear was another potential pitfall. He contemplated the next day as he drove home.

As he parked, he noticed the same group of boys and young men that he and Tim had seen hanging around. He knew they’d slashed his tires, and Gibbs was wary of them. He was glad he and Tim had decided to move out. He wasn’t about to yield to his first impulse, which was to frag the bunch of them. It wasn’t his mission. As Remy had said, “Not my circus. Not my monkeys.” He scowled in their general direction on principle then went into the building.

Tim was waiting for him, looking a bit upset.

“Okay, Tim, what is it?” Tony was ready for just about anything ... except this.

“Tony, would you mind if we asked Gibbs to put us up until Monday? I just looked out the window a few minutes ago and ... there’s a drug dealer setting up shop in the next building. I called the cops and they’ll be here in a few. I don’t feel safe here and it’s not our mandate to deal with this in any way. If we get involved it’ll cause all sorts of jurisdictional problems, piss Gibbs and Vance off. And piss off the local LEO’s. I really don’t feel like dealing.” Tim looked ashamed.

Tony just took his phone out and started dialing. “Belt, I need an immediate move ... no, we’re giving up the lease because the premises is in bad condition and we just saw a drug dealer move into the building next door. And there’s bangers all over. They slashed that tire; can’t prove it, but we all know they did. So ... it’s either move out and let them have the dump, or frag everything in sight. That’s actually my preference but ... I know ... not on home ground. So, we’ll be waiting. We’ll have everything we need for three weeks packed and leave the second our belongings are secured. Okay ... one hour. 2100.” He cut the connection.

“Okay. Tim, go pack what you need. I’ll call Gibbs.” He didn’t have time to call, as the phone rang in his hand. “DiNozzo.” Tony listened for a moment then sighed. “Okay, absolutely no room?” He put the phone on speaker so Tim could hear too, muttering, “No idea how he hears things so fast,” as he did so.

“AJ, really, I am sorry but there’s no beds. I’m full up. And you do not need to be sleeping on the damn floor before we have to be on a plane to the ass-crack of the world.” Gibbs did sound sorry. 

Tim jumped as his computer beeped with an incoming email. “Shit!” He read the email then interrupted the conversation. “AJ! Gibbs! Email from Quantico that says we can both stay in Officers Quarters Building C. There’s an empty billet, but we have to be back out by Tuesday. As we’re leaving Monday, I sent an acceptance. Okay, AJ?”

Tony nodded. “Great.” He peeked out the window. “And the movers are here. Gibbs, don’t worry. I’ll call when we get settled, no matter what time it is. But I gotta go get packed.” He didn’t bother to say good-bye, he just cut the connection and went to put all his clothing in a big duffel bag and a hanging suit bag for his suits.

Tim was doing the same thing. “I’ll take your laptop in my bag so I can Safe-T-Lock it. Can your movers pack the electronics?”

Tony nodded. “I’ll make arrangements with the team lead to put it all in storage until we find a place to live.”

“Okay, that’ll work.” Tim shoved both laptops and four tablets into his messenger bag, then put the locks on the zippers. He loved those locks. He’d gotten them from SEAL Yorktown on his second visit there. They were zip-type locks, but they had to be cut off with a special cutter. They really stopped tampering and theft of his property; a simple motion detector alarm added to the mix made for some interesting times.

A tap at the door revealed a Master Gunnery Sergeant and six Privates standing in the hallway. “Sir!” the Master Gunny saluted, followed by the privates.

“As you were.” Tony saluted back. “Pack everything but clothing and personal care.”

“Sir, I’m not usually one to comment but ... looks like you should have moved out awhile ago.” The Master Gunny made a face that you really do not want to see pointed at you. “Won’t take us long.” He started his walk-through, saying, “You men do not go to the truck alone. I want you to buddy up and stay that way. Go get the materials.” The Privates all headed back down to the truck to get the padding and whatever else they would need to pack the apartment. The Gunny glanced around. “And don’t worry about that piano, we’re qualified. But I’d put it in climate-controlled storage.”

“Right. Make appropriate arrangements to put everything in climate-controlled, and set up payment with Belt ... Lieutenant Sam Brown, Yorktown.”

The Gunny made notes on his clipboard, nodded, and wandered off, looking around.

Tony ran a quick check of the bathroom; all his stuff was gone. “Tim?”

“Packed up the bathroom; your stuff is on your bed so you better hurry. I put two towels, a hand towel and four wash cloths out for you, too.” Tim stuck his head out of his room, “That okay?”

“Great. Thanks.” Tony eyed the pile and was pleased to see that his liquids were packed in individual ziplock bags. He dumped everything into one end of the duffel, stuffed the last of his folded clothing into it, and zipped it up. “Done.”

Tim came out of his room with his sheets in his arms. “Want me to strip your bed? I thought we might need sheets at the billet.”

Tony sighed. “Yeah. Better safe than sorry. I bet there’s nothing in there but some furniture. They don’t usually provide linens.” 

Tim just stuffed the linens off his bed into a big plastic Sears bag and dropped it on the floor. “I’ll get on that. You better tell them how you want all your DVDs packed.”

Tony went back to the living room to do that, secure in the knowledge that Tim had his six on this.

The Master Gunny was already on that. “Look, he’s got everything in alpha order ... be sure to label the boxes properly. Code every damn cable and cord, and be sure that the cable labels match the plug-ins. And both ends, damn it. Last time, one of you SFBs labeled each hole with a different letter. Cable A had better match two holes labeled A. Got me?” 

The men all barked “Sir! Yes, Sir,” never even looking up from what they were doing.

Tony just backed out and left them to it. He checked the kitchen and realized that they actually didn’t have that much food to deal with. They’d been cutting back on the perishables, only buying what they really needed and shopping every evening for the last few days. There wasn’t enough of anything to worry about. He drank the last of the milk.

“Tim, there’s one yoghurt left, you want?”

Tim took the yoghurt and found a plastic spork. “What’s left?”

Tony checked the freezer. “Ice cubes. And ... a cold pack.” He checked the fridge and snickered, “Six pack ... two slices of cheese ... half a head of lettuce ... about a teaspoon of butter stuff and ...” He eyed the package. “Have no idea. Trash it?”

Tim nodded, mouth full of yoghurt. “Mmmm.”

A Private saluted Tony. “Sir!”

“As you were. And stop saluting me every other second. Just get on with it. The dishes in the dishwasher are clean. I’ll just get out of your way and let you pack.” 

It was surprising how little they really had. Tony had a couch, bed, dresser, side table, TV, Blu-ray, and a ton of movies. Tim had a bed, dresser, side table, desktop computer, desk, and an external hard disk the size of a desktop. They shared kitchen stuff, kitchen table, and linens. It took the movers just short of an hour to pack everything. It only took up a third of the 22-foot rig.

Tony waited until the apartment was empty then called the super. “We’re out. I expect our damage deposit, minus a reasonable cleaning fee, to be electronically deposited in my account within 48 hours.” He picked up his duffel and grabbed the handle of his rolling suitcase and headed for the door. He was amused to find that two Marines were waiting for him just outside the door.

One of them grinned at him and said, rather loudly, “Wouldn’t want you to be forced to kill a couple of stupid civilians ... Sir.”

Tony just snorted and headed for the SUV. “Tim?”

“Already in the vehicle, sir. We escorted him too.” There was a snicker from the group of watching boys. “Wouldn’t want him to be forced to shoot someone either, sir.”

Tony sideoogled the gang. “No. Wouldn’t do the Corp, or the Navy any good.”

He turned his luggage over to one of the privates to put into the SUV while he signed paperwork and finalized arrangements. Then he got in, started the SUV and drove off.

“Hate to let them feel like they won.” Tim scowled into the grey evening.

“Not a problem for me. The landlord just shot himself in the foot. We’re the last of the decent renters. All he’s got left are bums and dirtbags. People like that scare off the decent people. Doesn’t matter whether they’re Section 8 or what. No one with kids will rent there. And Section 8 will quit paying when conditions get bad enough. Give the whole complex another 2 years.” Tony wasn’t worried about his rep, he didn’t give a flying fuck about a bunch of drugged-out gang bangers and hookers.

.

It didn’t take them long to reach Officers Quarters, US Naval Yard, Washington DC. They found the building and the quarters. A young Purser showed them up then left them, saying, “You probably know the drill. No linens, beds are all queen size, so I hope you have sheets and shit. Good night.” And with that he trotted off, not even offering a salute.

Tony eyed the retreating figure. “If I wasn’t so tired I’d be pissed. As it is, I just can’t find a shit to give. Let’s get settled.”

Tim got his suitcase. “I packed the sheets, pillows and blankets in those two plastic bags. Grab them. I can manage both our suitcases. Duffel?”

Tony got Tim’s suitcase on the handle of his, shouldered his duffel and picked up the messenger bag with their computers. “Got it. You wrangle the odd stuff and we’re all set.”

Tim grumbled, “Not like I can’t manage my own shit. But, whatever.” He grinned at Tony and headed for the door.

It didn’t take them long to get settled. Tim made beds while Tony checked the kitchen and living area. He’d been right. There were beds.

Tony returned to the bedrooms to find that Tim had even put out his pj’s. “Thanks. There’s no food, kitchen stuff, or couch.”

Tim shrugged. He was brushing his teeth so he refrained from comment.

“Yeah. I’m hitting the head, then my rack.”

Tim mumbled incoherently around his tooth brush, then went into the bathroom to rinse and spit. “All yours. Good night.” He shut his bedroom door and flopped onto the bed. He was asleep before he quit bouncing.

Tony was exhausted too and quickly took care of his ablutions. He stumbled to his bed, hauled on his pajamas and went to sleep also.

.

They were awakened by sun streaming in the uncurtained windows. Tony groaned and rolled over, levering himself up and considering whether he wanted a run or not.

Tim mumbled incoherently when Tony tapped on his door then pushed it open. “You wanna run? I’ve got about four hours before I need to corral Abby.”

Tim staggered out of bed. “Yeah. It’s either that or take a bath in coffee. Since coffee isn’t happening, run it is.”

It didn’t take them long to get dressed in sweats, get shoes on and head out the door.

They took off at a gentle trot and made it about three blocks before they were caught up by a group of men that turned in from a side street. They were all obviously from the Marine Barracks; high and tight haircuts and MARPAT told their tale.

They silently added themselves to the duo and trotted along with them. Tony unconsciously began to drop back a bit to assess the group. Tim dropped back with him. They were followed by an older man in excellent shape. “Can’t keep up?”

Tony just gave him a slidie-eye. “Yeah, just used to chivvying the line. You?”

The man laughed. “Me too. This bunch a jarheads mostly answer to me. We like to keep fit. Duty on the Yard can make you soft. Too much standing around.”

“Tell me about it.” They moved back up to join the group. Tony noticed that none of the men really needed a boot. He only hounded his men because they needed to be exceptional. Not that these men were ordinary.

The Navy Yard is situated on 41 acres of land and bound on all sides by either the Anacostia river or a paved highway. This made it easy to plot a run of several miles without covering the same ground twice. After several minutes, Tony paced the leader and asked, “How far do you usually go?”

“We do a split workout ... six miles Monday, Wednesday and Friday with a visit to the gym. On Tuesday and Thursday, strength training and Saturday is team sports. We usually manage a basketball game with some squids or horse. Sunday we rest. Wash, rinse, repeat.”

Tony nodded. “Sounds like you’ve got it all planned out.”

“You?” The Marine didn’t need to specify.

“About the same as you, but we add Tai Chi, Yoga and swimming to the mix. Hand-to-hand training and marksmanship.”

Then the Marine asked the question that every service member asks. “What service?

“Navy.” Tony jerked a thumb at Tim. “NCIS.”

Tim nodded at the group.

“Seriously? You’re a squid? Coulda fooled me. And he’s NCIS?” The man grinned at Tony.

Tony grinned back. “And he’s our geek.”

Tim got several respectful looks which he smiled at. He was proud that he was in as good a shape as Gibbs and the SEALs. 

They ran on until the Marine said, “We go to the gym from here. If you cut down that alley you’ll be about a block from your place. You be here tomorrow?”

“No. We’re going on assignment Monday. We’re spending the rest of today and tomorrow getting ready. Thanks for the company.” Tim and Tony split off and headed back to their temp to shower and change. As they ran they discussed who was doing what.

Tim started. “I think I should gather up all our gear and get it to Gibbs' place, or into the SUV. Just to make sure we have everything in one place.”

Tony replied, “We’re supposed to go through all the packs tomorrow to make sure we’ve all got what we should have. I’d just drag the whole mess over to Gibbs’. Run me by Abby’s and she can drive. I’ll get her to bring me over when we’re done shopping.” He made a face. “Shopping with Abby.”

Tim gave him a sympathetic look. “Have fun. Just make sure to keep her out of Goth Gear and Black Sabbath. If you let her get into either store, you’ll never get her out again.”

“I know. I made that mistake early on. Never again. I swear the woman doesn’t own anything except black and crimson. With a bit of pink and yellow.” Tony grumbled the rest of the way to their temp.

Tim kept silent, remembering a few shopping trips with Abby with undisguised horror.

.

Chapter three

 

A quick shower for both of them took no more than thirty minutes. They dressed, packed up everything and headed out, turning in the key by putting it in the mailbox.

Tim drove and it wasn’t long before Tony was standing in front of Abby’s apartment building wondering what the hell he’d gotten himself into.

He got Abby to buzz him in and took the stairs two at a time.

“Abby.” Tony knocked on the door. He could hear Abby clomping around inside. “It’s AJ.”

“Coming!” Abby pulled the door open to reveal her in all her goth glory. She was wearing a short shirt that showed about six inches of belly. Her pants were baggy cargo pants that hung off her hipbones and flopped around her feet. Her boots were multi-buckled, platform ankle-breakers.

Tony just shook his head and pointed to the bedroom. “Get rid of that shirt. I’m not going out in public with you wearing that thing.”

Abby pouted. “Why not?”

“Because I’m a LtCmd in the Navy and I do have my dignity. I used to put up with that sort of behavior because it suited my cover. That’s blown, so go put on something a bit more ... covered. Go.” Tony wasn’t going to put up with any more teasing about escorting Abby. She could dress anyway she wanted when she was out with her idiot friends, but not when she was with him. He’d never really cared for that half-naked look. As he’d told Tim once, “Either bare it all or cover it. Make up your mind.”

Abby shot him a sharp look, then headed for the bedroom to change into a different shirt. She knew that Tony had put up with a lot from her. She also knew that things had changed drastically since he’d done away with the ‘feather-headed, flirty frat boy’ image he’d maintained for years. She wasn’t exactly sure she liked the changes, but she was also sure she was going to have to deal. She picked a shirt that would tuck in firmly, found a belt, and got herself back together.

Tony had braced himself to have to send Abby back again and was very pleased that he didn’t. He gave Abby a gentle hug, kissed the top of her head and said, “Thanks, Abs. Look nice.”

“Thank you, kind sir.” Abby hugged back, planted a kiss on Tony’s cheek, then wiped off the lipstick. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Okay. You’re driving.” Tony hated trying to drive Abby’s hotrod; the clutch was weird and the seat didn’t go back far enough. He always felt like he was two steps away from disaster.

“Okay. Just tell me where you want to go.” Abby gave him that bright smile that made him feel like he was the only person in the world. He knew she gave it to everyone, but it still made him feel special.

They wandered out to the 1931 Ford Coupe hotrod. Abby got in and fired up the 350 Chevy engine and waited while Tony got comfortable. “I’d use the flame throwers, but the landlord got a bit pissy about having to resurface the parking lot.” 

Tony snickered. “Abby. Really?”

“Yeah, they’re set to throw down and out the back so I don’t set the car on fire. That puts all the heat right on the road surface. Burned the hell out of the sealant.” She snickered back at Tony, put the car in gear and drove off.

They drove around for a bit before Abby picked a surplus store. She wasn’t feeling comfortable and Tony knew it, so he let her calm down a bit and pick a store she felt comfortable with.

The store was small, intimate, and a bit off the beaten path. Abby thought it was cute. Tony thought it was a bit more high-end than he’d planned on. He’d make it work.

“Oooo, look, Tony. Pink rifles. Isn’t that cute?” Abby eyed the plastic-stocked horrors with interest.

Tony snorted. “Pink plastic stocks? Seriously?”

Abby nodded. “You’re right. Cute, but not that practical. So, BDU’s? I like BDU’s, the pockets are so useful. And maybe one of those cute survival pack things?”

Tony just pointed Abby in the right direction, told her to model each outfit for him and wandered off to look around. 

It didn’t take him long to realize that, behind the thin smoke screen of racks of clothing, shelves of drop cloths and survival gear and cubbyholes of oddments, this place was a seriously hard-core surplus. He noticed a full case of ammo on display with a sign that said to ask for bulk deals. He examined the long arms in the racks behind glass cases of pistols of all descriptions. There was everything from some serious sniper-style rifles and dressed out AK-47’s to a couple of rifles that were more for shooting large game than targets. And by large game, they meant elephants.

Abby called him, so Tony turned around to see what she had picked. He was happy to see that it was sensible. Not that he didn’t like Abby’s usual wear, except for the belly shirts, but he didn’t want her breaking an ankle or getting poison ivy in unmentionable places. This outfit was made up of dark blue BDU’s, t-shirt, and a tac vest. She was still barefooted, wearing only black socks covered with skulls. 

“Very good. Another pair of BDU’s just like that, different color if you don’t want Coyote again. Black would be fine. Get a pair of boots and a pair of ...” he waved a hand, “not boots.”

Abby snickered. “I did see something I think I’ll get.” She flourished something that looked like a deformed blanket. It turned out to be a Russian General’s coat. The beaver brown coat had red piping along the lapels and pocket openings. The double breast was decorated with a double line of brass buttons and it still had the red lapel tabs and black shoulder flashes. Tony approved of it as it was lined and looked warm.

“Okay. Get that too. Now ... boots. Go. And bring back the other pants and get a couple more of those t-shirts.”

Abby scurried away after dumping her loot on the counter. Tony had yet to see any clerks but he was sure they were under observation; it was making the back of his neck crawl.

He wandered a bit more, picking out a few things that he wanted Abby to have. He also picked out a small backpack for her. She didn’t really want it, but he was going to load it up with survival things and make her at least take it with her.

When the clerk said, “Can I help you?” from right behind him, he didn’t even flinch.

“No, not just yet. I’ll be taking a look at those AK’s though.” Tony didn’t even turn around. He didn’t care if he pissed the clerk off or not. “Once she’s done picking out stuff, I’ll finish for her. She’s got no sense when it comes to casual, outdoors clothing, or survival gear, and she needs at least a basic setup. We’re forced into a Sensitivity and Team-Building Seminar in fucking Montana. Montana, I ask you. Who the fuck sets up a seminar in the butt-crack of the world?”

“Some tree-hugging, squirrel-kissing, libtard, psycho-babbling nut job.”

Tony snickered. “Don’t like ‘em either. Who the hell are they to tell me I’m a hard-nosed jacked-up killing machine. Seriously? They don’t know. If either one of our Leaders has even been out of the country or taken a survival course, I’ll eat a goat, raw.”

The clerk sighed and held out his hand. “Rand Sanderson, Army Ranger, retired.”

Tony shook, “Anthony DiNozzo, SEAL.”

“Huh. Well. So, outfitting the lady for ... wilderness survival?”

“Yeah. At least a 48-hour pack with GPS.” Tony absently looked for Abby. 

“Okay, that I can do. And some sort of tracking station?” Rand started rummaging as he spoke, coming up with a keychain GPS and a handheld G4 tracker. “This is good. But you need a module for every person in the group.”

Tony nodded. “I’ve got a track, so does everyone else in the team, except for Abby. My E-geek can program it. Thanks.”

Rand grinned at the term “E-geek.” “That’s a new one on me. He good?”

“Digimon can make a tablet do the work of a laptop and a laptop do the work of a mainframe. He’s so good he can make a mainframe tap dance. He’s one of NCIS’ best. MIT, Johns Hopkins.” Tony was proud of Tim’s accomplishments and bragged on him more that Tim did on himself.

Rand looked puzzled then said, “I thought you said you’re a SEAL.”

“I am, but I also work at NCIS. It’s a thing. I’m so Type A I get myself into trouble between ops. Over-exercise, obsess. Working at NCIS keeps me centered. Tim’s part of my NCIS team.” Tony scanned the store for Abby.

“I see. And the lady?” Rand was obviously just making conversation so Tony didn’t get bent out of shape.

“You’d never believe it to look at her, but Abby is brilliant. She’s our forensic expert. She says, and I assure you she’s right, that she can murder someone, dispose of the body, and leave no forensic evidence behind. She knows more about guns than I do, can find evidence in a pile of nothing, and she’s published. Several times. As well as being asked to present to various groups on a regular basis.” Tony smiled at that.

“Not a bad one in the bunch then.” Rand looked for Abby, wondering if she needed help.

Abby popped out of the fitting room, dressed in a pair of coyote BDU’s and a MARPAT t-shirt. She had found a pair of boots that she liked and had them on. She grinned at Tony and pirouetted. “What do you think?”

Tony looked her up and down. “Good. How do the boots feel?”

“Good. Really. I feel a bit weird ... short. Ya know?” Abby wriggled her toes in the boots. “But they’re nice.”

Tony snorted, “Abby ... you’re like ... 6’3” or something in your usual boots. Taller n’ me by an inch or so. I’m fixing you a bug-out bag and I mean for you to bring it with you. If you don’t need it, good. If you do, we’re in deep shit and we need everyone to have gear. Okay?”

Abby thought about that, then said, “Okay, but I get to say what’s in it.”

Tony replied, “Okay. Up to a point. I mean for you to have at least 48 hours of supplies. MRE’s, water purification, blanket, stuff like that.”

Abby was rummaging in a box so she just replied absently, “Powdered drink mix, energy bars and ... Oh! A match safe. One of those plastic things with a screw-on top. And a signal mirror.”

Rand said, “You know how to use one?”

Abby turned and signed, “I know how to do lots of things,” then grinned at him and went back to her rummaging.

Rand blinked. “Um ... and I say this with all due respect. Whisky Tango Foxtrot.”

Tony tapped on the counter with an eat'n’tool. Rand recognized Morris Code when he heard it. He was even fairly sure he knew what Tony’d said.

Abby looked at Tony. “Oh, you did not.” She narrowed her eyes and stalked Tony as he backed away and laughingly hid behind Rand. They played Ring-a-round-Rand until the man was laughing along with them. Abby darted one way then feinted and caught Tony. 

“Okay, okay. Abbs. I give.” Tony frankly giggled as Abby's fingers took her revenge, dancing along his ribs and finding all the ticklish spots. “Nononono. Abby!”

Abby stopped tickling, made that sound usually written as ‘humpf’, then said, “Bad Tony.”

Rand couldn’t help it. He said, “What? What did he say. I couldn’t keep up.”

“He said I look cute in MARPAT. Jerk.” Abby gave Tony the stinkeye.

“Abby, MARPAT is Jet's favorite.” Tony put on an innocent face, knowing quite well that if Gibbs liked it, Abby would too.

Abby frowned, sure that she was missing something. She grumbled under her breath as she tried to figure it out.

Rand frowned too. “What’s the problem with MARPAT? Beside the fact that it’s Marine?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “It’s not black.”

Rand, not knowing Abby, said, “No, it’s Marine Pattern.”

Abby yelped, “Oh! Oh, yeah. MARPAT.” She stroked the t-shirt with a fond smile. “Silly me.”

Tony nodded. “Get a jacket of some kind. I know you prefer shawls and capelets but that’s not gonna cut it in the Rockies of Montana.”

Rand pointed. “There’s some nice hunting gear over there. And, if you don’t have an orange jacket, you ought to get one. I know you’re all camo and don’t want to be seen, but, where you’re going you need to be very visible.”

Tony thought about that. “I’d rather wear my own jacket. But ...” he pounced on something. “Hunters' safety vests. I need ... eight, just to be on the safe side.”

Rand took eight safety vests to the register. He hated the things, they were an ugly shade of neon lime green with silver reflective strips. But, they were nowhere near any natural color, so anyone would know that the moving, lime green object was definitely not a deer. He tossed in a box of waterproof matches and a match safe, just because.

Tony watched as Abby picked up a few things that she declared indispensable for a lady on retreat in the ‘wilds of upper nowhere’ as she put it. He picked up a small packet and eyed it. 

“What the hell, Abby?” Tony eyed the package which was labeled, ‘Tinkle ’n Toss’.

Abby glanced over. “Oh, those are so I can pee standing up. I got a couple at a concert where the head was ... horrible doesn’t exactly explain it.” She returned to her investigation of a box.

Tony dropped the package as if it was hot while Rand escaped into the back room. Loud laugher made it plain why.

“Abby, damn it, warn a guy, will you?”

Abby grumbled, “Well, don’t paw through my ... stuff.” She emerged from a semi-headstand in a box, waving something purple triumphantly. “A purple shemagh. Just what I need. And I found one in coyote, black, blue―both navy and baby, and a red one. I just want to get one for everyone. Sort of a we-are-a-team sort of thing.” 

Tony thought about that for a moment then said, “Then you need to get us all the same color. There’s one that’s coyote and beaver right there. Get one for each of us. But get plain coyote for Bright and Flower. They’re not part of our team. If you want colors, get navy and white for Remy, Dean, Cosmo and me, and dark royal blue for Jet, Tim and Jimmy.”

Abby thought about that for a moment then nodded. “I’m getting one in a different color for each of us, just from me. Then we need a team color, I’m in favor of the navy and white, or the coyote and beaver. Then Flower and Bright get red.”

Tony blinked for a moment. “Okay, I get the navy and white for the team, but why red?”

“Red is for danger, caution, and beware. So red.” Abby made a face at the handful of cloth she had. “I think purple for me, red for Jimmy, because he’s a medic. Then beaver and brown for Gibbs. Green and black for Remy. Royal blue for Dean. Royal and black for Cosmo. And Green for you. Cause that shows you’re partners but they’re just a little different. Then Tim.” she frowned, realizing that Tim didn’t have a partner. 

Tony nodded. “If you’re going with the partner thing, Tim gets red and black because Tim and Jimmy are battle buddies.” He grinned. “Because I said.”

Abby nodded, satisfied with that explanation. “But Gibbs doesn’t have a partner. That’s so sad. Did he have a battle buddy? Once upon a time? If he did, what happened to him?”

Tony felt his heart sink, he knew that his sensitive friend wasn’t going to like his explanation. 

He was saved by Rand. “Miss Abby, that’s not a question you really ask. If a guy's bud isn’t nearby, he’s either on leave or gone. In the not-happy way.”

Abby bit her lip. “Oh. Oh. That’s so sad.” She trotted to the checkout to dump an armful of stuff. “I wonder. Tony? Do you think I ought to get a knife of some sort? Gibbs always says, always carry a knife.”

Tony nodded. “Ought.” He considered the display for a moment then pointed. “That one.” The knife he pointed out was about eight inches long, open, with a tanto point and a bit of serration near the grip. “The grips are checkered and it’s a one-hander.” 

Abby crinkled her nose. “Switch blade?”

“No, cam loaded. With an auto safety so it won’t close on your fingers.” 

Rand handed it out and Tony examined it closely then handed it to Abby. She fingered it then flicked it open. “Nice. Yes, I’ll have it. Thanks.” She handed it back to Rand, then went off again, wandering through the stacks of things, poking into boxes.

It took all of three hours for Abby to finish. Tony had to veto several things as impractical in their location and two that were downright dangerous. Although he couldn’t deny that having an actual crossbow would be fun. Or a speargun.

Just before they left, Abby decided that she was going to have a pack instead of her suitcase. She dragged Tony back to the pack department and he helped her decide, explaining the differences and advantages of ALICE, MOLLIE, and ILBE.

She decided on a commercial hybrid, a cross between the older ALICE and the now slightly obsolete MOLLIE. She liked the ability to add smaller, dedicated bags to the master pack but didn’t like the metal clips that the ALICE used. The addition of PALS webbing, a la MOLLIE was definitely useful. She picked several modules to add to the four-part master pack. “This way I can put things in different pockets so I can find what I want without rummaging, keep the pack balanced, and have the odds and ends that I want to hand in these.” She waved the smaller pouches around.

Tony agreed, saying, “It’s an improvement, in a way. I do like dedicated pouches for some things. But you don’t need those. Put those ... um ... pee things where you can get to them.” He flushed slightly then grinned. “And I need to get some ...” he frowned. “I only know the proprietary name ... Restops.”

Abby agreed with that. “We do. I need something to pee on. So do you guys. A C-130 doesn’t have any kind of potty.”

Rand knew exactly what they were talking about. “We don’t have Restops. We carry Biffy Bags. They’re better. They have toilet paper, a wet wipe they call a Biffy Wipe; add a ...” he snickered a bit, “pre-moistened hand wipe and some hand sanitizer, and you’re good to go.”

Tony thought for a second. “We’ll take ... um ... there’s ten people. We better have at least three per person. Just make that forty, just to be safe.”

Abby blinked. “So many?”

“One use.” Tony turned back to see Rand with a case in his hand.

“It’s cheaper by the case, and there’s forty-five in each.” He plunked the case down on the counter and grinned.

Tony shrugged. “Okay, what’s the damage?”

Abby grimaced. “Ouch.”

Tony couldn’t help the smirk. “Chargin’ it to NCIS as necessary gear. No way am I allowing you to take the hit. You’d never buy any of this shit if it wasn’t for Human Resources insisting on us going to the ass-crack of America.”

Rand couldn’t help himself. “And what happens when we don’t get the issue we need?”

Tony grinned at him. “Tactical acquisition. I’ve got a guy that’s an expert. Even got me a date once.”

Rand blinked. “Now that’s a new one.”

“Well, she was cooperative. And bored.” Tony smiled in recollection of the time Remy had gotten a high-school friend to go with him to some potboiler. They’d kept their heads together, slagging all the fat politicians and snickering over the haughty fat women dressed in designer togs that were meant for Twiggy. She’d gone home and married her best friend six months later. “Good times, good times.”

Rand handed the last of the stuff off to Abby. She was unwrapping everything and tucking it away in her pack. 

Tony handed Rand a credit card and watched while he ran it. When the register was finished printing, Tony tucked the receipt into his wallet and said, “Okay, Abby, let’s see if you can actually carry this.” He hoisted the pack easily and waited while Abby got her arms into the shoulder straps. He buckled the belly band and fiddled with the shoulder straps. “There! How’s it feel?”

Abby bounced a bit. “Okay, not slippy or bouncy.”

Tony pulled down on the pack, nearly toppling Abby over backwards. “Good.”

“Toneeeeee! That was mean.” Abby turned around to swat at Tony.

Tony just grinned. “Notice that you didn’t even stagger? ... And ... ow.”

Abby pranced around a bit, trying to get the pack to shift or slip. “Okay. It’s good. A bit heavy, but I’ll deal.”

Tony nodded to Rand. “Got a hang scale?”

“We’ve got one used for deer set up.” Rand helped Tony take the pack off Abby’s back, then took it to the scale. It weighed in just at forty pounds.

“Not that heavy.” Rand smiled at Abby’s face. “True fact. When I was working, I regularly carried twice that. Sometimes more.”

Tony agreed. “You’ve never picked up my go-bag, have you?” Abby shook her head. “It weighs in at about fifty pounds. When I add in the stuff I take on an op, I can be carrying up to a hundred and twenty pounds.”

Abby grimaced. “Oh. What are you bringing with you on this joke?”

“Full field pack. I’m not taking a chance on being stuck out in the middle of nowhere without essential gear. And those fruit-loop trainers can kiss my fuckin’ ass if they object.” Tony’s expression said that he wasn’t taking shit from them for anything.

Abby nodded. “I’ve got a few things I’m bringing, whether they like it or not. So ... we done?”

Tony shook hands with Rand. “Thanks for your help.”

“Welcome. Good luck on your ...” he smirked. “Op.”

“Thanks.”

Tony carried the pack to Abby’s car and dumped it in the trunk. Abby hopped in and they were off to GHQ and a review of everyone’s pack.

.

Abby happily allowed Tony to carry her pack into GHQ, Gibbs’ house. She hugged Ducky and waved to everyone else. “Duck-man, what are you doing here?”

Ducky, who was very happy not to be going on this Charlie Foxtrot, explained, “I’m checking the medical supplies you’ll all be carrying and just, as you young people say, hanging out.”

They spent the next hour going through packs. Abby was fascinated by what everyone carried.

“Jimmy! I can’t believe you carry ninety pounds of stuff. Wow.” Abby grunted as she tried to get Jimmy’s pack on her back.

“Don’t do it that way, you’ll strain something. And, yes, I do. At first, I couldn’t manage but Tim ... everyone helped me so I’d have what I need. Now I can hump it myself. And I’m thinking of adding a few more things. That’ll bring me up to field medic standards.”

Ducky shook his head. “No, that bit extra will have you carrying a full field hospital minus the tents and so on. You’ll be able to do fairly major surgery. Extract a bullet, set a broken bone, relieve a compromised airway, that sort of thing.” He took the next pack in the group and opened it. 

This pack and the next three had a general setup, good for minor cuts, blisters, chafed spots and other small problems. Ducky approved, saying, “Well, good enough, but if it’s anything worse than a blister or splinter, see Jimmy.”

Abby demanded Ducky look at her supplies next. She’d picked up a tactical trauma kit and wanted to be sure it was good enough. Ducky went through it and vetoed a few items as above her pay grade. Jimmy immediately commandeered them, saying, “No sense in her dragging that stuff around when she can’t use it.”

Abby happily gave up the gear, she was glad to get rid of the extra weight. “Great, that means I can carry more snacks.” She looked around at the snickering men. “What? I like trail mix. And ...” she managed a proud look, without looking smug, “no chocolate. I love chocolate but ...” she shuddered dramatically, “melted, messy trail mix? Yuck.”

She produced a bag of trail mix that was obviously homemade from her huge purse. “Here. I made a bunch. It’s sort of my own recipe. Anyone who wants some can have it.” She smiled as Remy took the bag and opened it. “I roasted the peanuts. No idea why raw is supposed to be so much better for you. They’re just ... blah.”

Ducky smiled. “Raw is better than regular as they’re fried in oil. Dry roasted in an oven, as you do it, tastes better and isn’t oily. Good job.” He took a bit of the offered mix and began to nibble on it. 

Dean came back from the kitchen with a box of baggies and proceeded to divide the mix up into separate batches so that everyone could have a share. He even included Ducky, which made Abby smile at him.

After Ducky was done approving all the medical gear they retired to the back yard for burgers, hot dogs and chicken.

Gibbs seated Ducky at the head of the long table he’d built out of cedar. It was long enough to seat 16 people, with a hand-built camp chair for each place. He hated benches as, if one person wanted to get up, they either had to struggle from between the table and bench, or everyone had to move. So, camp chairs. 

Abby sat on Ducky’s right, observing the semi-controlled chaos of getting food on the table.

“Bitch. Stop snagging the fries and put them on the table.” Remy snatched the plate from Tony then handed it back.

Tony retaliated by snatching another fry and mumbling around it. “Suck it up and deal. I’m hungry.” But he put the platter on the table in front of Ducky.

Gibbs handed a platter full of hotdogs to Dean, telling him, “Buns are still on the kitchen counter. See to it, will you?”

Dean promptly plopped the hotdogs on the end of the table and trotted off for the buns, yelling, “And who, might I ask, was supposed to do that?”

Cosmo replied, “Whoever was responsible for getting the dogs out in the first place.”

Tim snagged the platter of cheeseburgers before Gibbs was actually finished filling it, he just stood and held it until the last of the burgers were on it. “I got this. And the bacon is in the smoker chamber on a cookie sheet.”

Gibbs opened the smoker chamber and retrieved the sheet. “Good idea, whoever had it. Love bacon-cheeseburgers. Here.” He shoved the sheet at Jimmy, who had already put on oven mitts in expectation of being handed the hot sheet. 

Jimmy put the platter of cheeseburgers on the prep station and started adding bacon to them. Everyone agreed that bacon was now a necessity on cheeseburgers.

Dean tripped and nearly dropped the pitcher of sweet tea he was carrying. He turned around and socked an innocent Remy on the shoulder. “Watch your huge feet, jerk.”

Remy turned around himself and demanded, “What the hell? Dean, damn it, what’d I do?”

Before it could get any farther into fight territory, Tony whistled. “Remy, go get the condiment bucket. Dean, Remy did not trip you. Watch where you’re putting your number nines.”

Cosmo went over to examine the paving where Dean had tripped. ‘Loose paver. Jet, we need to fix this when we get back.”

Gibbs just yelled, “Then put the fucker on the damn job board.”

Cosmo yelled back. “Didn’t know it was loose until just now.”

Jimmy brought the cheeseburgers to the table, plopping the huge platter right under Ducky’s nose. “There. Grab now, or dodge long arms later.”

Abby picked a hotdog and eyed a burger. “Ducky, you want to split a burger? I don’t think I can eat both a dog and a burger but I want some of both. And some slaw, baked beans, potato salad and ... that. Um ... what is it?” Abby eyed the bowl curiously.

Ducky chuckled. “The burgers are a bit on the large side, aren’t they? Well, dress it up and cut it, will you? And that is Ambrosia salad the Marine way.”

Abby knew what Ambrosia Salad was, she was from the south after all. But this was ... different. She poked at her serving and realized that while it had the usual mandarin orange slices, banana slices, coconut and marshmallows, it also had pecans, maraschino cherries and pineapple. “Mmmm, looks good.”

Ducky handed Abby some lettuce, onion and pickles. “I do dislike tomato on a sandwich. If you’d like I’ll reach some for you.”

“No, I don’t like it either. Makes the bread all yucky.” Abby had to snicker, as Ducky had pronounced ‘tomato’ in the British fashion as toe-maw-toe.

Abby and Ducky watched in amusement as the rest of the group scrambled around, putting the finishing touches on the table. Jimmy brought out the condiment bucket, a plastic tray which held all the mustard, mayo, ketchup and such that they needed. Tim finished the second tray of fries, dumping them onto another platter. Cosmo and Dean got glasses for tea and bottles of soda and beer. Cosmo plopped down in a seat declaring, “I’m staying out of the damn way. Too many chiefs.” 

Remy nodded. “There are. I’m a Master Chief, Dean’s a Chief Warrant, you’re a Chief Petty.” He snickered, “That makes three. Lucky AJ’s a LtCmd. Takes the weight off all of us.”

Abby was hysterical at Remy’s dry wit and droll delivery. 

Ducky thought about that then said, “The old saying, ‘Too many chiefs and not enough indians.’ does seem to apply.” 

They settled in to eat, passing platters and loading their plates. The bowls of slaw, potato salad and so on were also emptied. 

Then Tony went inside and came back out with a huge platter of cupcakes; Jimmy followed with more Ambrosia salad. “Dessert, everyone.” 

Abby held out her hands like a small child. “Oh, yum-mie. Cake! Thanks, Tony.”

The cake was put on paper plates and handed around, with a small plastic bowl of Ambrosia on the side.

Abby sighed. “It’s all so good. I’m going to gain a ton. I don’t know how you guys manage to stay so darn skinny.”

Tony smiled at her but left it up to Gibbs to explain. “Run eight miles a day with full field pack, hit the gym for an hour alternating strength training and yoga and Tai Chi, swim a mile a day. Hand to hand on the days we don’t swim. Small arms training once a week, and long arms for those who use them.”

Abby goggled at him for a moment, then just went back to her cake, muttering, “Gluttons for punishment ... all of you.”

Gibbs just mumbled around a mouthful of cake, “We are. Yes, we are.”

Remy grumbled, “Talking with your mouth full, Jet.”

Gibbs just stuffed another hunk of cake into his mouth and gave Remy a hairy eyeball.

It didn’t take them long to scarf down the last of the cake and salad.

Dean started picking up the plates and platters while Cosmo got a garbage bag and began stuffing the paper trash into it. 

It didn’t take them long to clean up the mess, put away the few scraps that hadn’t been eaten, and police the kitchen and patio. 

Abby sighed. “This is nice.” She looked around at the group.

Remy, Dean and Jimmy were lounging on blankets spread out on the grass. Cosmo, Tim and Gibbs were flopped on loungers at the edge of the patio. And Tony was playing chess with Ducky. She’d settled astride a small footstool and was absently texting someone.

Tony moved a piece and Ducky tipped his king in defeat. “Well played, my boy, well played. Excellent game. Another?”

Tony thought for a moment then decided, “No, I think not. You’re starting to droop like a ... something droopy.”

Ducky chuckled, “Yes, I’m afraid that it’s nearly past my bedtime. Jimmy? I think we should go now.”

Jimmy groaned but obediently got to his feet. “Okay. I think I ate too much. But it was very good. Thank you for having me over, Jet.”

Ducky also thanked Gibbs for the invitation. “Next time, give me a bit more advance notice and I’ll bring something.”

“Ducky, you don’t need to bring anything.” Gibbs offered Ducky his hand. 

Ducky took it and let Gibbs help him to his feet. “Well. I like to. A nice case of Guinness?”

This suggestion was met with general, and loud, approval.

Dean brought up something that had been worrying him. “Ducky? You got someone to check up on you while we’re gone?” Since Jimmy had moved in with Ducky everyone had been relieved of worry about the elderly gentleman. But they were going to be out of town for at least a week, possibly two.

“Oh, Jimmy’s mother has agreed to come stay with me for the week. If you’re gone longer, Director Vance has said he’ll assign someone to check up on me. Not that I need it, but it seems that everyone is convinced that I’ll drop dead if someone doesn’t check on me daily. Still, it is nice.” Ducky headed for the front door with Abby on his heels.

Jimmy followed, making sure that Abby was in her car before taking the driver's seat of the Morgan. Ducky still insisted on taking it out at least once a week. He was more comfortable in Jimmy’s truck now, finding it easier to get into and out of. 

The rest of the pod finished policing the house and then sat around, watching something idiotic on tv until they were tired enough to sleep.

They spent Sunday lounging around, making one last check of gear and goofing off.

Jimmy went to get his mother and bring her to what everyone was calling Mallard Manor. She was impressed and fussed over the shape the kitchen was in, until Ducky told her that they left things out in a certain order so that they were conveniently to hand. 

They’d set up a routine of making a menu, then putting out the dry goods in order so that Jimmy could get their meals together without rummaging or forgetting something.

She didn’t approve but kept her mouth shut, resolving to figure out something a bit neater for them. 

Abby spent most of Sunday alternately texting various friends and practicing getting her pack on by herself. When she was satisfied she could do that, she started going through it, making sure she knew where things were and checking the balance. She wasn’t much for hiking but, from listening to the others, she knew that heavy things had to be against the back of the pack and near the small of her back. Once she was satisfied, she settled to watch TV until she fell asleep.

.

 

Chapter four

Monday morning dawned, literally, at what Abby referred to as, fucking craptastically early. She had made arrangements for a taxi to take her to GHQ so she could leave her car at her place. She really didn’t fancy parking it at the airport for up to two weeks.

Jimmy also took a cab, leaving his truck for his mother to drive. She had taken one look at the Morgan, realized it was standard and refused to touch it. The truck was automatic and she could drive that. 

The rest of the pod was already at GHQ, as Gibbs had agreed that Tim and Tony could stay at his place until they found something.

Abby got her pack and carried it up to the porch over one arm. Jimmy joined her, offered to carry her pack and was politely refused. “No, thanks. I’m gonna manage for myself. Where’s yours?”

Jimmy nodded to the pile of packs, “I left mine here. No sense in dragging it home only to bring it back again.”

Gibbs was on the phone when they entered the living room. “Yeah, just personal packs for most of us. There’s two trainers, but I have no idea what the hell they might have. We’ll deal. They’ll just have to keep up with their shit themselves. Thanks.” He snapped his phone shut and turned to grin at the group. “Well, seems our takeoff has been moved up a bit. We need to be on the flightline in three hours. That’s 1200.”

Tim nodded. “Ok. I just sent Bright Sommers an email that our travel arrangements had been changed. He sent back that we’re supposed to meet at the Yard at noon.” He fiddled with his phone. “I told him to be here at 1030. The bus is going to be here at 1015.” He grinned. “They’ll have to scramble to get aboard and settled on time. I also told them there aren’t any parking facilities so they should take a cab. I just gave them the address.”

There was a bit of laughter over that as Gibbs’ neighborhood was notorious. It was laid out by someone who, as Jimmy said, used a pretzel for a straightedge. It was a convoluted mess of twisting streets, dead ends, and circle drives with parks in the middle of them. Tim had looked things up and explained that the layout was intended to reduce adjoining backyards and speeding. He’d shown them an aerial view, and Jimmy had remarked that it looked like a flattened-out brain. That had put most of the pod rolling on the floor in hysterical laughter. He’d stammered and stuttered, flushing heavily, then he’d just laughed too.

Their bus showed up right on time; in other words, fifteen minutes prior to fifteen minutes prior. They ambled out to meet the driver, who saluted Tony as he recognized him. “Sir!”

“As you were. We’re expecting two raging civilians, so they’re probably going to be fucking late. No impact, no idea. We’ll be leaving right on time as I’m not about to miss the fucking flight. If they show up just as you’re pulling out, stop for them. Otherwise, they’re stuck.” Tony was getting irritable already at the thought of putting up with the trainers, which he referred to as TKN’s. Or Tree-Kissing Nutjobs.

The rest of the group, including Abby, were grumpy too. Gibbs was on a real tear. No one wanted to do this. Abby was feeling particularly grumpy and guilty.

Tony ambled over, hugged Abby, and kissed her head. “Smile for me, Abs. We’ll manage.”

Abby sighed and rested against Tony’s chest for a moment. “Okay. But ... we need a plan.”

Tony snickered in her ear. “I have several.”

“You’re evil and I love you.” Abby straightened up, tugged at her belt then went to sit on the bus.

Tony was impressed. Abby had come dressed for success as the saying went. She’d forgone her makeup, except for a bit of eye liner and blush. She’d also dressed sensibly in cargo pants, a t-shirt and her boots. She had a flannel shirt tied around her waist, just in case she needed it.

The rest of the group had dressed as they pleased: Gibbs in MARPAT, complete with boonie, while the SEALs had all gone with black. Tim had chosen to wear the gear he’d worn in what they were calling pseudo-SEAL training, as had Jimmy. All in all they gave a very martial appearance, sure to send their TKN trainers into a tizzy.

They all got on the bus in a leisurely fashion, allowing the driver to put their packs in the belly compartments of the bus. He’d only opened three, leaving the rest closed.

As usual, there was a bit of jockeying for position but they wound up seated when Tony barked, “Okay, you lugnuts, settle down.” He pointed to seats, “Abby, Gibbs. Dean, Cosmo. Tim, Jimmy. Me, Remy. And Flower and Bright can take leftovers.”

This put Abby right behind the driver with Gibbs across the aisle from her. Then Dean behind Abby with Cosmo across from him and on back. This put Gibbs at the front of the bus and Tony at the back. Hopefully neither Flower nor Bright would try to change the seating arrangement, because that wasn’t happening.

True to prediction, Flower and Bright arrived just as the driver was putting the bus in gear. He grumbled a bit but put the bus back in park and started to get out to help the scrambling duo with their luggage. Tony stopped him easily. 

“Master Sergeant. You do not hump for civilians. Just open the belly bay and let them deal.” 

The MSgt offered a salute which Tony returned, then got out, opened the belly bay and waited.

The woman was a bit of a surprise as she was dressed in a neat power suit. Unfortunately, with a skirt. The man was dressed in tweed with a flat porkpie cap. They had a wheeled suitcase each, plus some sort of trunk on wheels and carry-on bags. Flower also had a huge purse.

As they scrambled to get their stuff over to the bus, the cabby stopped them. “You forgot something.”

Flower, totally distracted by trying to manage a suitcase, carry-on, and huge purse, turned, saying in a puzzled tone, “I don’t think so?”

“Pay up.” The cabby stuck out his hand. “Forty dollars ... cash.”

Bright fumbled his suitcase, carry-on, and the huge trunk to get to his wallet in the inside pocket of the aggressively tweed jacket. “Oh, I’m so sorry. Here you go. Keep the change.”

The cabby eyed the fifty, nodded, said, “Thank you.” and headed back for his taxi. He didn’t bother to help them with their luggage; he’d helped them get it into his taxi and that was quite enough for him, thankyouverymuch.

Bright hailed the MSgt, calling, “Well! Don’t just stand there, come get this trunk.”

The MSgt snapped to attention and ignored him, staring straight ahead.

Tony stuck his head out the door and barked, “Driver! Get those bays secured A-sap!”

The MSgt just barked, “Sir! Yes, sir! At once, sir!” He quickly started closing the two full bays.

This caused Flower and Bright to scurry to get their stuff into the still open bay, as the MSgt had closed the filled bays first. Flower announced, “I don’t feel that you are falling in with the thrust of this exercise, sir.”

The MSgt rolled his eyes. “Permission to speak, sir.”

Tony called, “Let it all fly, MSgt.”

The MSgt then turned to Flower. “As I am not, thankfully, involved in this Cluster Fuck, I’m neither falling in, or out, nor thrusting in any manner. Thank Aries.”

Flower opened her mouth, closed it, pursed her lips then sighed. This made her look surprisingly like a fish. “Well, I’m very sorry you feel that way. As a member of the military I’d think you’d feel that a team is very important to the overall success of ... anything.”

“Yes, ma’am, I do feel that teamwork is very important. However, ...” he eyed her up and down. “I do not feel that some touchy-feeley civilian POG will ever understand military teamwork. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m up for a reaming if I don’t get my ass in gear.” And with those pithy remarks, he tossed the trunk into the open belly bay, added the suitcases and slammed it shut. He got into the bus and behind the wheel, leaving the two trainers to deal with their carry-ons themselves.

Bright, who’d kept out of the confrontation, shoved the handle of his carry-on into the body of the soft-sided thing and hefted it into the bus. He then turned to do the same with Flower’s case. “There you are, honey. Now just hop up into the bus and we’ll be on our way.”

Flower found that hopping wasn’t going to happen. The tight hem of her pencil skirt hobbled her at the knees and she couldn’t manage the high first step. As the military didn’t provide the small stool that commercial buses provided, she was in a quandary as to how to manage. She finally hiked her skirt indecently high and sidled onto the bottom step. Bright nearly stepped on her heels to get onto the bus before the MSgt threw it into gear and started off.

The MSgt let them get fully into the door before he shut it with a hiss of hydraulics and slammed the bus into gear. “Everyone, be seated, we’re wheels up. Now!” And with that, he tromped the accelerator and took off.

This threw Flower right into Gibbs' lap. He shoved her back to her feet, exclaiming, “Unwanted touching! Seriously, lady.”

Bright managed to clutch the pole that supported the partition behind the driver's seat. “Oh, my. Flower, really!”

Bright managed to steady himself enough to start his lecture. “Well, I’m so happy to see all your shining faces turned up to me. We’ll have such good fun, I’m sure. We’ll begin by choosing our partners. We’ll keep these partners all through our little safari into the wonders of good team behaviors and Politically Correct Office Practices. Now, I’ll begin. Flower and myself, of course. And ...”

Tony interrupted him. “Mr. Sommers, as this is a military vehicle, military rules prevail. I’m sure you understand the necessity of having rules and following them. Yes?” Bright nodded. “As we are moving, you need to be seated immediately. And, as ranking officer, I say your little lecture needs to wait until after we reach our destination. Now, just to expedite things, we’ve already chosen partners and will be keeping them for the foreseeable future. So, if you would, please make your way to the back of the bus and find a seat.”

Bright gave Tony a bit of a stunned look but managed to make his way to the back of the swaying bus and get into a seat. Flower followed him, looking hot and flustered.

They seated themselves side-by-side behind Tony. Tony turned his head. “Each of you need to be seated on opposite sides of the bus. No one is allowed to sit partners until the bus is full. As the bus is not full, please separate to individual seats.”

Bright moved to the opposite side of the bus. Flower nodded, “Yes, you see? We’re already making progress. Rules are important.”

Tony nodded, “Yes, ma’am, and chain of command.” Neither Flower nor Bright realized that Tony had separated them to keep them from making new plans. He intended, with everyone’s help, to keep them off balance as much as possible. After all, if the NCIS group had to be uncomfortable, so did everyone else. He idly wondered when the two TKNs would realize that they had three more men than they were supposed to.

They reached Quantico quickly. The bus arrived at Turner Airfield, the Marine Corps dedicated field a mile or so from the Marine Quantico base HQ. The bus pulled up right beside the C-130, which was loading quickly.

“Sir!” The MSgt shut off the bus and opened the door. He got out and unlocked and opened the belly bays. “Ready to go, sir.”

Tony nodded to Gibbs as he sauntered past. “Ok, you lugnuts, line up.” Everyone scrambled to get into a straight line, even Gibbs.

This was approved by Flower as she gave Tony a saccharine smile. “Thank you, Mr. DiNozzo.”

Tony immediately corrected her. “Mr. DiNozzo is my father. I prefer LtCmd or Special Agent.”

“I see. Well, we wouldn’t want to start out on the wrong foot now, would we. So .. to continue.” She made a note on her clipboard then went on, “I’ll be taking roll in a moment but I do notice that there are three more bodies than there are names. When I call your name, please step forward, collect your things and begin to board ...” she trailed off as she finally realized that they were not where she expected. “Um ... the plane?”

Tony gave her one of his most brilliant smiles, the one Abby called his pimp special. “Yes. I did notice that you had made reservations for a civilian flight at some un-Godly hour in late afternoon. Won’t do at all. No reason to wait that long, so I managed to scrounge up earlier connections all the way. No sense in burnin’ daylight. So, we’re wheels up at noon on the dot. Better finish roll, get who’s who all sorted.” He eyed her for a moment then snapped, “Damn it, do your job, woman.”

Flower flinched, this was not going according to her well-thought-out, politically correct, nicely sensitive plan. “A-hem. Well. DiNozzo.” Tony went to collect his pack. Bright checked him off. “McGee.” Tim did the same. “Scut-tow.” 

Abby scowled. “It’s Shew-toe.”

Flower nodded. “I’m so sorry. Miss?” Abby nodded took her pack and joined Tony and Tim.

Flower finished the roll call and eyed the three extra bodies. “And you are?”

Remy shrugged. “Remiel Devereaux, AJ’s bud.” He waited for Flower to say something.

It was Bright who managed. “Oh, yes, the Navy man. You’re excluded. I’m sorry to say.” Bright didn’t look especially sorry.

Remy shrugged again. “Excluded? Dat don’ seem ver’ friendly like. Tellin’ a man he not welcome.”

Abby nearly had a snicker fit, only Tony pinching her butt kept her from it.

Bright opened his mouth then shut it. He finally managed, “It’s not that you’re not welcome, exactly. But this retreat is for Gibbs’ NCIS team only. So, while I think it would be a good thing. There aren’t enough beds.”

Cosmo shook his head. “Not like we can’t hot rack.”

Dean nodded. “We could definitely do that.”

Bright had no idea what hot racking was but he managed not to ask. “I know it’s difficult to understand but sensitivity seminars are carefully organized ahead of time, so there are no accommodations for you. I do apologize for the disappointment, but you’ll just have to make sure you’re included next time. Now, if you three would be about your business, we’ll finish up here and get aboard and find our seats.”

Dean and Cosmo nodded then all three men saluted Tony. “Sir.” Tony saluted back and the three SEALs grabbed their gear and trotted off. They actually also had a flight down to Yorktown to catch. Not that it was much of a problem for them, as they had a chopper ready and waiting. Tony gazed after them in disgust. “Assholes.”

Gibbs agreed. “They are. They’ve been rubbing my face in it all week.”

Abby nodded. “Jerks, that’s what they are. They get to go to Yorktown and do fun stuff while we’re stuck with a couple of aging flower-children. Sucks.”

Gibbs nodded, saying softly, “Keep your voice down. We don’t want them to catch on. After all, we have to make our fun somehow.”

Tim just whispered, “If they think they’re getting a hold of any of my gear, they can think again. Seriously.”

Jimmy agreed. “I’m not giving up my phone. In fact, I got a couple of those locks that you use and locked my phone in the inside pocket of my ruck.”

Tim replied, “Me too. And, if I catch either one of those TKN’s rummaging my stuff, I’m gonna raise a stink.”

Abby grumbled, “If they think I’m giving up my phone, they can just take a flying fuck at a rolling doughnut. Jerks. I’m so sorry, Tony.”

Tony sighed. “Abby. Enough.”

“Well, I know, but still, this just sucks donkey balls. Sweaty ones.” Abby frowned at Flower, who was wrestling the trunk back onto its wheels. The MSgt had dumped it onto one side.

Tony took the slips of paper that were their orders out of his pocket and ordered, “Line up. I’ve got the orders ready. Let’s go.” Gibbs led the way with Tim, then Jimmy, trailing him happily. Abby bit her lip then followed. Tony glanced behind himself then yelled, “You two snap it up. Put a wheel under it, we’re ready to board.”

The Tech sergeant who was in charge of loading eyed their rucks with an experienced eye. “You’re allowed a hundred twenty-five pounds of ruck, not an ounce more, unless you’re mission-ready.” He waited. 

Tony just handed him the orders and waited while he read them. “Okay. Ma’am.” The TSgt took Abby’s ruck and weighed it. “Good. Right at fifty pounds.” Abby took her ruck back with a sweet ‘thank you.’ and accepted the hand of another airman to help her up the pax stairs and into the bay. The Loadmaster turned to Gibbs next, weighed his pack at ninety pounds then motioned him on. Gibbs tossed his ruck into the plane, then climbed in himself. Tim and Jimmy both weighed in at around ninety pounds and were motioned on. Tony’s pack weighed in at an even hundred.

“Cutting it a bit close there, aren’t you, sir?” The TSgt nodded at Bright and Flower. “What about the civvies?”

“Weigh them just like you would anyone. And we’re not sharing weight allowances.” Tony frowned slightly. “Wouldn’t even ask, unless it was mission-essential. And none of their junk is.”

“Thanks for that, sir.” The loadmaster looked relieved. It was against regs to share allowances, or ‘redistribute the loads’. But way too many people seemed to think it was just the loadmaster being a prick.

Bright scurried up dragging his suitcase with his carry-on strapped to the handles. “Oh, here you are. Be careful with my suitcase. Just leave the carry-on by the door. I’ll get it after you’re done loading the trunk.” And with that he hurried back to Flower to get the trunk she was guarding.

The TSgt eyed the suitcase, then just put it on the hang scale mounted on one fork of a fork lift. He then added the carry-on and sighed. “Well, that’s cutting it fuckin’ close. A hundred and twenty.” He put the suitcase and carry-on to the side to wait for Bright.

While he waited for Flower to get to the weigh station, he turned to Tony. “What the hell did you do to offend the Gods of the Sea?”

Tony shrugged. “No idea. This is actually NCIS-sponsored. We’re on a Team-Building and Sensitivity Training exercise. Those two are our trainers. Heaven help us.”

The Sgt nodded at Gibbs. “Marine?” Tony nodded while Gibbs just grinned. “Well, then, you’ll understand. This looks like an opportunity to assume the Marine position. Sucks to be you.”

“It does. Yes, it really does.” 

Just then Flower finally made it to the door. “Oh, my gracious. Well, here I am.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The loadmaster picked up her suitcase and carry-on, hung them, then sighed. “Well, ma’am, you’re ten pounds over-weight. And that trunk isn’t going.”

Flower frowned. “Young man, I don’t think you realize ... that trunk holds some very carefully chosen items necessary to our training sessions. Why ... I don’t know how we’d get on without them. I’ll just have to pay the extra weight charge.” She fumbled in her purse.

“Ma’am. There’s no such thing as pay-per-pound on a military transport. Now, get your suitcase and carry-on thing and get aboard.” The sergeant eyed his watch. “We have exactly ten minutes to finish loading. You better get on board and settled. You have to be settled in your spot before take-off, or you’ll wind up on your ass. So, respectfully, move it!”

Flower whined and kicked but Bright finally convinced her to put a handwritten label on the trunk and leave it for the loaders to ship back to their company.

Bright sighed; this whole exercise had already turned out to be just so very annoying. He was hoping for great things; he’d settle for not-a-disaster. He hefted his suitcase onto the door sill, then his carry-on. He got into the plane by the inelegant device of sitting on the sill then scrambling back to his feet. He was feeling very accomplished until an annoyed voice barked, “Clear the fuckin’ door. Move to a position inside the passenger bay. Now!”

Flower was in an even worse position. There was no way for her to get into the plane without flashing everyone. She fussed and fiddled until the airman boosted her up, one hand planted firmly and impersonally on her ass. She then realized that her suitcase and carry-on were still on the ground.

Tony took pity on the airman and yelled, “Gibbs! Heads up!” then threw the suitcase in through the doorway. Gibbs grabbed it and tossed it to Jimmy, who dumped it on the deck. Tony then tossed up the carry-on, which was given the same treatment. He then scrambled through the door into the plane himself, ruck firmly on his back.

Tony was pleased to see that, while he’d been taking care of boarding, someone had made a nest for them. He decided it had to have been Gibbs. No one else would have known what to do. 

Flower looked around and whimpered; there were no seats, or not many. 

Bright actually shrieked, “What? There’s no seats! What are we supposed to sit on?”

Jimmy eyed the man with disgust, said, “On our asses,” and proceeded to plop down on a blanket on the floor. 

Gibbs nodded at Abby, telling her, “You get settled there. I’m putting you between me and AJ. Jimmy and Tim will be together on the other side of AJ. Bright and Flower, being the mature individuals and training officers that they are, can manage for themselves.” The pod as a whole had decided that one of the things Flower and Bright needed to learn was that a team was a closed loop.

Bright managed fairly well; he’d brought a traveler’s blanket and a blow-up pillow. Flower, however, was hampered by her pencil skirt and heels. She was just getting semi-settled when an airman came over. He saluted Tony and said, “LtCmd DiNozzo, I’m really sorry but you’re going to have to move about six feet one way or the other. We need the specialized tie-downs you’re sitting on.”

Flower finally gave in to a bit of hysterics. “I’m sure you can use some other tie ... things. I just got settled. This is so very inconvenient.”

The airman eyed her and her outfit for a moment then said, “Well, ma’am, I’m sure I don’t know about that, but you have to move as those tie-downs are the only ones allowed for in the regs. Now, you can either move, or we’ll move you.” He caught sight of her name tag, read it, then said, “And I’d think you’d be a little more sensitive to politically correct behaviors in an unfamiliar environment. And know better than to tempt busy people with inappropriate attire. I’ll thank you to snap it up ... ma’am.”

Tony hurt himself, trying not to laugh. Abby, on the other hand, rolled on the deck.

The scramble to move saw Gibbs managing to move them more toward the back, which put the pallet between them and the rest of the passengers. 

Bright asked him, “Wouldn’t it be better to be with the main group?”

Gibbs eyed him for a moment then just said, “One of the things I learned in the Marines was, never add a specialized team to a bunch of grunts. Or civvies. Those people are mostly military families, traveling to be with service people. That means kids, cranky kids. Stressed spouses. Not dealing. Tony especially won’t deal well with being subjected to that sort of chaos. Nor will Jimmy. Best we get as much distance as we can.”

Bright eyed Gibbs for a moment, then remarked, “I think you don’t do well with that sort of mess either.”

“Nope, I don’t.” And with that Gibbs settled down in his nest and went to sleep cuddled up to Abby.

Tim and Jimmy curled up together in another nest. Tony stretched out between the two buds in his own nest.

Bright sighed. “Well, it looks like our preliminary exercises are out the window.”

Flower frankly sulked. “They are being completely uncooperative. I’m making a note and calling Director Vance. This is not acceptable. How are we supposed to teach them teamwork when they won’t ... be a team with us? And the attitude. Unacceptable.” She squirmed around, finally realizing that she had to get rid of the skirt.

Bright checked his iPad. “Flower, my dear, we’re on a military flight. I was told it is straight through, so ... my information says that, barring a landing at St. Louis or Chicago, the flight will take right at four hours, plus or minus fifteen minutes or so. Just ...hike that silly skirt up and throw a blanket over your legs. It’ll be alright. We’ll just do the introductory lecture in the air taxi from Denver to Helena, then we go on to Glacier on another plane. We can do the first team building exercises there. Now, I’m going to follow the lead of our friends and take a nap.”

They actually managed about half an hour of good sleep before the usual chaos became intrusive. Children don’t do well in the noisy environment of a C-130. The engines roar, air rushes, things creak and bang. People like Gibbs and Tony can sleep almost anywhere and the sounds are a reassurance that they are safe. Other people just find it impossible to ignore. Ear plugs are mandatory, but you try keeping ear plugs in a three-year-old. 

Gibbs woke up to a kick on his foot. He jerked awake, glared around and then realized that the kick had been a nine or ten-year-old running by. He sighed, glanced at his watch, then sat up. Abby mumbled, shifted until her head was in his lap, then went back to sleep.

Tony was also awakened by the same kick to his foot. He glowered at the back of the running boy, then shoved his ruck behind his back, settled against it and looked around. He noticed the way Gibbs was sitting so he handed him his ruck. “Here, Boss.”

Gibbs leaned forward and shoved his ruck between his back and the palletized cargo he was leaning against. “Thanks. Time?”

“Three hours, ten minutes.” Tony was well aware that Gibbs knew what time it was, he wanted to know flight time.

“We past St Louis?” Gibbs did not want to contemplate the time that would cost them.

“No. I’ll check with the loadmaster to see if our schedule has changed.” Tony got up and ambled off. 

Bright immediately made an effort to snatch Tony’s blanket and Abby’s pillow. Gibbs just slapped his hands as if he was a naughty child. “No, you don’t do that.”

“I’d think that abandoned gear was fair game. I feel that he should share. It’s proper conduct for teammates.” Bright managed an engaging smile.

“No, no teammate would snitch another’s personal gear without asking first. And you’re not team. So don’t get above yourself.” Gibbs collected Abby’s pillow and jiggled her until she snorted and took it back.

Tony approached the loadmaster and asked, “We still scheduled for non-stop to Denver?”

The loadmaster nodded, they were both having to shout to be heard over the various noises of the plane. “Yeah. We’ve got some sort of civvie big deal aboard. She made arrangements with SecNav to get her whole group straight through to Denver.”

Tony made a face, glowered at Flower, who returned a puzzled look. “Sorry about that.” He pointed at Flower. “She’s gonna turn out to be a PITA.”

The loadmaster snorted. “Not a problem. Fewer landings and takeoffs. No off-loads? Makes me a happy camper.” He consulted a tablet. “We’re right on schedule. Should be landing in Denver at about 1600. Depends on hold time exactly when.”

“Thanks.” Tony wondered when Flower'd had time to call anyone, then realized that she must have done it on the bus while everyone was firmly ignoring her.

He returned to his pod, settled next to Gibbs and told him, “Right on schedule. Miss Flower has put in an unnecessary word on high. We’re straight through.”

Gibbs grunted, settled more comfortably and patted Abby’s shoulder. “Abs. Wakie, wakie.”

Abby grumbled but sat up. “What?”

“You need to drink some water. You’ll be dehydrated by the time we get there, and I do not need to deal with Miss Grumpy Abby.” Gibbs handed her a bottle of water.

Instead of drinking it, Abby poked Jimmy with the bottle.

Jimmy sat up, took the bottle without question and drank half of it. He shook Tim and handed him the other half.

Tim also woke up instantly aware. He blinked at the bottle for a moment then took it. He finished it off, crushed the bottle and stuffed it into a small drawstring bag he’d brought along especially for trash.

Bright watched this with some interest. He was older and not as much of a fanatic as his co-trainer. She was truly dedicated to educating the world on the politically correct behavior in any and all situations. She was sure she had a handle on the world. He was older, a bit cynical, and not inclined to rock any boats. If someone was seriously out of line, it needed to be handled, but training for the sake of training was a waste of everyone’s time.

Flower, for her part, was feeling more than vindicated. She was sure that this bunch of wild-eyed Feds were completely out of control and needed to learn teamwork and Politically Correct, sensitive behavior. After all, that horrible man had allowed another to touch her ... backside. Never mind that she’d never have gotten into the plane without the help.

Tony dug out his bag of trail mix and started to munch on a handful. Miss Flower chose to be affronted by this. “Mr. DiNozzo, I do feel that it would be more friendly to offer to share your treats with all of us.”

Tony eyed her for a moment then said flatly, “I do think it would be more sensitive of you to remember that I do not like being called Mr. I worked hard to become a special agent, and even harder to become a LtCmd in the Navy. You wouldn’t call a physician or anyone with a PhD, Mr., would you? Well, it’s the same thing. Very rude.” He offered her his handful of mix. “If you insist, here ... have some.”

Flower recoiled as if Tony had offered her a handful of shit. He shrugged, offered it to Abby instead.

Abby smiled. “No, thank you, I have my own.” She dug hers out and began to munch too. “Oh, and while we’re on the subject of titles. Mine does happen to be doctor. I’ve got a PhD in ... several things. I’d appreciate not being called out of my name.”

Flower sighed, “Well, my dear Abby, I’m sorry you feel that way.”

Abby scowled fiercely. “Did I offer you the privilege of using my first name? I don’t know you. We’ve only been in the same company for ...” she looked at her watch. “About three hours. We’ve barely exchanged ten words and you feel like it’s ok to call me Abby. Not even Abigail, but Abby? Pushy much?”

Flower opened her mouth then shut it again. One of the prime tenants she tried to teach was sensitivity to proper names. Everyone had different ideas of over-friendly behaviors; Dr. Sciuto was obviously a bit of a touch-me-not.

Tim groaned, grabbed another bottle of water and grumbled, “Wish it was beer-thirty, damn it.”

Jimmy nodded. “Me too. When we get to Denver, how long is the lay-over?”

Tony smirked, “As we’re the full compliment, whenever we decide to take off, we take off. So ... how long do you want?”

“Long enough to get something to eat.” 

Tim nodded. “I’ll check the schedule as soon as we go wheels down. Won’t take me but a minute to deal.”

Gibbs muttered. “Wonder if there’s a good steak place.”

Abby patted his leg then signed, “Don’t mumble. It’s so loud we can’t hear you.”

“Don’t particularly care if certain people don’t hear me. Everyone else can read lips.”

Tony joined the conversation. “Steak sounds really good, Boss.” He turned, waved at Tim and Jimmy. The both looked at him. “Steak?”

They both nodded eagerly.

“Ok, steaks it is. Tim, find a good steak house at Denver International?”

Tim fiddled with his phone for a second then signed, “Timberline Steaks and Grill looks good. Five stars. That do?” he waited, looking at each person in turn. Everyone agreed on the restaurant, even Flower and Bright. Abby had taken pity on them and screamed an explanation. “Ok. I’ll make reservations so we don’t have to wait.”

He made reservations and got directions from where they would de-plane to the restaurant. Then they all went back to sleep. 

Flower sighed. Her careful plans were being messed up and she didn’t like it. Like many of her kind, she was inclined to be more than a bit rigid. It made for a decently organized trainer, but a very poor Lifestyle Coach as far as flexibility was concerned. 

After shifting and squirming for several minutes she finally managed to get halfway comfortable. She had her skirt hiked up as far as it would go and had covered her legs with the blanket she had brought with her. She decided to go over her notes again; as she did so, she realized that she hadn’t made any arrangements for extraneous electronic devices. She’d deal with that at Denver.

.

 

Chapter five

 

Four hours and thirty-six minutes after take-off, the C-130 landed at Denver. There was a specialized hanger for the C-130 flights. It was just a big pole-built building set up for cargo, and a small area for passengers to gather to wait for the bus to take them to the main concourse. 

Bright clambered down to the tarmac and started issuing orders like he knew what he was doing. No one paid any attention to him except Flower.

Tony shrugged, waited until they wound down, then snapped, “That’s all well and good, but you better collect your crap. This isn’t a commercial flight, in case you didn’t notice, and you hump your shit yourself or it gets left behind. I’d suggest you move it.”

Flower actually gaped at Tony, mouth open, jaw hanging. She snapped her mouth shut, then started to say something.

Tony cut her off. “You’re all about sensitivity and feeling sympathy for the other person. This is not acceptable conduct. Most of these people have been traveling for up to twenty hours, some with more than one child. Everyone is tired, including the crew; or especially the crew. So, do you really expect exhausted, harassed crew members to hump your shit, cater to your sense of entitlement, and deal? Seriously?”

Flower blinked then flushed. “Thank you for pointing that out to me. But ...” she eyed the door then sighed. “Would you please get my things for me? I’ll handle them once they’re on the ground but I’ll admit that the thought of trying to scramble back up there is ... daunting.”

Tony nodded. “This once. Hang here.” Tony headed for the door but was met by a Marine who had a duffle over his shoulder and Flower’s suitcase and carry-on in his hands. 

Tony took them, smiled and said, “Thanks, man. Civilians, really.”

The Marine let Tony take the cases then said, “How the hell did you get lumbered up with civvies?”

“Have to take a Team-Building and Sensitivity Seminar. NCIS requirement that I’ve been dodging for years. Last time my NCIS team came up in rotation, I was in ... classified country, doing classified things.” He grinned. “Our Freudian Psychologist Lifestyle Trainers are both civilians.”

The Marine grinned back, said, “Sucks to be you,” and ambled off with a wave of his hand.

Flower called, “Thank you, sir,” after the Marine and got another offhand wave. She turned to Tony to say, “We’re not Freudian, we’re Jungian. Freud was proven to be ... somewhat sexually repressed and some of his ideas were just Victorian myth.”

Tony eyed her then pointed. “Well, interesting but not pertinent to the problem at hand. There’s your shit, there’s the bus. People are waiting. Let’s put a wheel under it.”

While Tony had been dealing with Flower’s junk, Bright had manhandled his suitcase and carry-on into one semi-convenient package. The pod had just shouldered their rucks and gathered into a group to wait for another bus. They’d been told they could split the group or wait. They waited. 

Just out of habit, they formed a line with their rucks on their backs. Tony smiled a bit then ordered, “At ease.” With a sharp smack of boots on pavement, everyone assumed the “at ease” stance, even Tim and Jimmy. They’d practiced marching and all the military stances, just for the enjoyment of doing something as a team. Gibbs had said that it was also good in case Tim had to go undercover.

Then they just stood and waited. Flower fussed with her suitcase, then her skirt. Bright chose to just stand where he was and read something on his tablet.

The next bus was a short bus as there were only about fifteen people total that still needed a ride.

When it pulled up both Flower and Bright started to get aboard, they were stopped by the driver who just pointed to their luggage and said, “Forgot something.”

Bright blinked then asked, “Aren’t you going to get it?”

“Not in my pay grade. You hump your shit yourselves.” He scowled at Flower. “Jesus.”

Tony nodded to him then settled behind him. “Welcome to America, land of the entitled.” he watched as both Flower and Bright made their unhappiness known to Gibbs. “And the affronted.”

The driver just shrugged, smirked and said, “I’m sure I wouldn’t know, sir.”

Finally, after Gibbs just walked away from them, Flower and Bright got their stuff and headed for the bus. 

Since the bus was small, there were no belly bays, you just dragged your stuff on board and dealt with it. Gibbs' team had just put their rucks on their feet after getting seated, as had everyone else military. Flower looked for overheads, while Bright tried taking up the seat next to him. Neither one was successful. Bright had to move his things when a young lady Marine requested, rather shortly that she be allowed the seat. Flower wound up standing in the back, leaning against the back door.

The ride wasn’t long, so they were soon dumped at the entrance to the main concourse, right in front of Jeppeson Terminal.

Tim eyed his tablet. “Well, we’re here,” he pointed to a spot on the map. “And we need to be here.” He pointed again. “In less than thirty minutes. I looked into changing the reservations but they won’t. So ... we need to hump it.”

Flower was happy to provide some relief. “The tram goes from here to C in about six minutes. It’s all automated. We just get on, then off. Let’s go.”

They were happy to find that the tram was like a subway, it just stopped beneath each concourse long enough to allow people to board or get off. They were in the station at Building C in no time.

Gibbs took charge for a moment. “We don’t want to go into a restaurant with all our gear. We need to get some rent-a-lockers.” He glanced around, found the restaurant, then a bank of lockers. “There.”

They all got a locker and put their bags in them. Tony checked carefully and found that each quarter gave them an hour. “I think two hours?”

Tim nodded. “Our flight leaves at 1700. Then we overnight in Helena and on to the retreat at Glacier in the morning. That flight is leaving at 0630. No time for a run, but, if we get up at 0500, we’ll have time for breakfast. Not looking forward to spending another hour in a plane then yet another tomorrow, but ...” he shrugged. 

They all carefully pocketed their keys and got in line to wait for the host to seat them.

When he found out that they had reservations under the name ‘Gibbs and team,’ he happily showed them to a huge table near the kitchen. Everyone on Team Gibbs liked it. It was back in a corner and shielded on one side by a chest-high wall topped with silk plants. 

They settled, in order, into seats. No one was sure why but they always seated themselves in this order, Gibbs, Tony, Remy, Cosmo, Dean, Jimmy, Tim, then anyone else. Since the other SEALs weren’t there, it wasn’t as much of a problem, but they wound up in another argument with their coaches. 

Flower wanted to sit in a different location, one more open. She actually had the host ready to re-seat them before anyone realized that her trip to the lady’s included harassing the host into changing their table. 

The host eyed the table then decided to cut his losses and asked, “Would anyone beside the lady like to change their table?”

Firm head shakes from everyone except Bright, who just looked confused, sent the host away. He returned quickly with menus. “Here you are. Your waitperson is Shelly. She’ll be just a moment.”

As they looked at the menu they discovered that the offerings were mostly meat-and-potato sort of things. Gibbs wondered if it was going to be another problem with their Politically Correct Coaches. It turned out not. Bright ordered a small steak, potato, and large salad. Flower ordered salmon, broccoli, and large salad.

Abby eyed the menu with delight. “I want buffalo. I’ve never had it. Steak?” she frowned. “But the smallest is 32 oz. No way can I eat all that. Tony?”

Tony nodded. “I’ll split it with you. Potato? Salad?”

Abby smiled, happy that Tony would share with her. “Please. Rare?”

“You know it.” Tony tugged one of her pigtails. “If it moo’s when I cut it, I’ll stab it ’til it quits.”

Abby giggled at that. “I don’t think buffalo moo, but, I’ll help you. I’m ready.”

Tim, Jimmy and Gibbs all decided on a 16 oz steak, potato and salad. Except for Gibbs who took fries, skip the salad. 

The server came over, took their orders and said, “Okay, about thirty minutes. I’ll bring your salads, bread and drinks in a sec. You all want coffee?”

They did, except for Bright who wanted herbal tea. When the server told him they didn’t have any, he asked for a cup of very hot water. “I have my own tea. That is acceptable?” The server assured him that it was and went away.

She returned in a few minutes with salads, hot rolls and drinks. After she was finished filling the coffee, she smiled. “I’d leave the pot but it’s empty. Also, for service members, past and present, coffee is free. Thank you for your service.”

Tony just pointed to Gibbs. “Marine, reserve.” then himself, “Navy.” then he pointed to Tim and Jimmy. “NCIS, civilian adjunct.” He left Flower and Bright to explain who they were.

The server blinked, “Okay, you two. But not the rest. I’m sorry.” She didn’t sound sorry and no one expected her to be.

She returned with a full pot of coffee and the information that her manager had agreed that NCIS was close enough to service that Tim, Jimmy and Abby could have free coffee too.

Flower, who was drinking ice tea, just remarked, “It must be nice to get all these free things.”

Tony eyed her then decided not to get into it with her over something that petty.

Abby gave her the fisheye then picked up a roll. “Is there any butter?”

Jimmy passed a bowl of ice. “There’s margarine.”

Abby took the bowl. “It’s yellow and greasy.” She shrugged.

Bright decided to step into the fray. “Now, Miss Abby, I’m sure you didn’t mean that.”

Abby eyed him for a moment then snarled, “Dr. Sciuto, if you don’t mind. And I did mean exactly that.”

Flower added her unwanted two-cents worth. “Well, I do think that yellow and greasy isn’t a nice way to describe margarine.”

Tony gave a soft whimper. “Oh, man, you so did not. Seriously?”

Abby eyed Flower. “Do you know what is in margarine?”

Flower frowned. “Not really.”

With that Abby started explaining about hydrogenated vegetable oil, and flipping carbon-carbon atoms to create trans-fats. She also explained, in detail, about Van Der Waals’ forces. Then she went on to explain exactly how both butter and margarine got their color. By the time she was done, everyone was glassy eyed and Tony was beginning to wonder if he could just gag his friend. Just as Tim and Jimmy were beginning to give Flower the evil eye, Abby exclaimed, “Oh, our food is here. So, yellow and greasy or animal fat. It’s all the same, it’s a funny name for what you want.”

Flower nodded dazedly and decided that she wasn’t going to question this group on terminology unless it was obviously meant as an insult.

She decided to ask a question that had been bothering her for awhile. “I’d like to change the subject, please.” After everyone nodded or shrugged. “I don’t understand a lot of military vernacular; some, I understand, are acronyms and I can look most of those up. But, what is a FTOA, I can’t find that one anywhere.”

Gibbs shrugged. “It’s not official like A-TAC’s or FIA. But FTOA is fuck ton of ammo.”

Bright nodded. “I see. And I’ve wondered about this alpha code. What’s that?”

Gibbs poked at his fries for a second. “It’s the NATO phonetic alphabet. Sometimes it’s nearly impossible to understand someone, even on a dedicated line, so we use phonetics. Like. ... Alpha, Bravo, Bravo, Yankee.”

Abby turned and said, “Yes?” She’d been talking with Tim and hadn’t heard Gibbs’ explanation.

“Nothing, Abby. Just used your name as an example.” 

Flower gave Abby a funny look. “I also note that she jumps when you wave your hands.”

Gibbs sighed. “Determined to pick a fault, aren’t you. Abby jumps when I sign at her. Her parents are deaf. She taught me sign, and Tony learned it from me. He taught his pod. Comes in handy in all sorts of situations.”

Flower nodded. “I see. That’s very nice.” She gave them a beaming smile. Things were beginning to look up. 

Tony, Tim, and Jimmy had mostly ignored the by-play between Flower, Bright, and Gibbs. Tony had busied himself with fixing his potato to his liking, as had Jimmy, Tim, and Abby. They were all a bit disgusted to note that both Flower and Bright didn’t put anything but salt and pepper on their potato. 

Abby was just putting a bite of her steak in her mouth when Bright said, “Oh, dear, you’ll have to send that back, it’s raw.”

Abby just stuffed the bite into her mouth then glowered at him.

Jimmy snorted, jammed a bite of his rare steak in his mouth and chewed. This kept him from saying anything rude. He was generally an easy-going person, but like most agents, he wasn’t fond of the Personality Assessment Test, nor the Coaches. 

Tim also kept his mouth shut. His personality was non-confrontational, unless it was necessary to the investigation at hand. You couldn’t walk on him but, as Gibbs and Tony agreed, ‘The louder they are the less they’ll do. The quiet ones will have you waking up in hell wondering what the fuck happened.’

Bright shook his head at Flower who agreed that now was not the time to lecture or nag. Such things led to tension, which led to upset stomachs. 

They finished their meal in relative silence, most conversation casual and in the ‘pass the whatever’ vein.

When the meal was finished, Tim took the time to check their arrangements. “Well, we’ve got half an hour to get to the small-plane gate. That’s Gates 80-95. Our carrier is ... Great Lakes Airlines. We’re departing on a Beechcraft 1900. Twenty-three souls on board, including the stew, pilot, and co-pilot. No navigator, I think.”

Tony frowned, “That’s a short-range, prop. Max is right at 600 miles. Kinda pushin’ it.”

Tim nodded. “But we don’t have to worry about any circling time. Helena just isn’t that busy. And anything larger ... well, the field is old and the runways are kinda short.”

Tony sighed. “Well, shit. Too bad we can’t catch a ride on a Huey or something.”

Jimmy shook his head. “Oh, no. Huey ... just no.”

Gibbs chuckled. They’d found out that Jimmy had a rather unreasoning dislike of helicopters. He even admitted it. He didn’t know why either.

Bright rushed to reassure him. “No, thank goodness, no helicopters. I don’t care for them myself. No ... er ... glide capability. If the whirly thing stops, it’s a ... stone in the sky.”

Tony and Gibbs’ jaws dropped. Then they started laughing. Tim and Jimmy followed quickly with Abby giggling along. Tony finally managed, ‘whirly thing?’ which cracked the group up again.

Bright looked startled for a moment then laughed too. Flower just sighed.

Gibbs finally got himself under control. “We better put a wheel under it.”

They hurried to get their luggage out of the lockers then hurried to the gate. They’d lucked out in one way. Their flight was leaving from Gate C-83. Since they were in the middle of C, it wasn’t that far to go. They didn’t even realize that they’d left Bright and Flower in the dust until they got to the gate and started to check in. 

Tim was in charge of all the tickets except for anything to do with military flights; then Tony took over. Since Tim had the tickets, he started the check-in process. Since they were federal agents, all they had to do to check their sidearms through was show their badges and credentials. They also kept their rucks with them. They just barely fit into the box, but, with a little ‘convincing’ they did. Bright and Flower had to check both pieces of their luggage as the carry-ons were about an inch and a half too large in every dimension. You could tell that neither one of them was pleased, but they didn’t object.

The hop was boring, as all such commuter flights are; there was no food offered, only a soda/water/coffee sort of thing that the flight attendant pushed through on a cart. There were chips, cheesy crackers, and cookies. They all refused the foods but everyone except Bright took a bottle of water, for three dollars.

Tony poked Tim and asked, “Okay. I know you did the best you could but why didn’t we catch something landing in Helena?”

Tim replied absently, “Nothing available within our time frame. We could have waited two days, but I didn’t think our coaches would go for that.”

“Okay. Figured it was something like that.” Tony settled back. “What are you working on?”

“Nothing much. Actually just reviewing a paper I’m working on.”

Gibbs glanced at his watch. It was getting late and he was tired. All he wanted was to get a hotel and hit the hay. “Tim, hotel?”

“No, Mistress Flower wanted to make the arrangements. I let her. Far be it from me to interfere with the duties of a licensed therapist.” His tone of voice was just short of truly sarcastic. He was definitely not pleased. “So, who knows what sort of shithole we’ll be staying in? Just so you know. NCIS is paying for it, so it’s sure to be more Hanoi Hilton than Marriott.”

Jimmy groaned. “Man, I hope it’s not some damn Motel Hell.”

Flower overheard this but decided to keep her peace, she wanted the arrangements to be a surprise. The Wingate by Wyndham was a nice, mid-level motel with reasonable rates. As it was fairly new, it had a gym and swimming pool, which was a plus as far as she was concerned. 

She also needed to see to the problem of illicit electronic devices. She considered her options and decided to call Director Vance as soon as she could. She settled back to try to get a nap. Since the flight was two hours, she settled back and dropped off.

Bright was feeling a bit wilted. They’d been traveling for hours and he was sure that they wouldn’t hit a bed before midnight. They’d left DC at noon, gotten in to Denver at a bit after five and still had two hours of flight and probably another hour before they got to their rooms. Not to mention the mess assigning rooms was sure to be.

He decided to try to pair people up now. Obviously Flower and Abby. He bit his lip for a moment; Tim and Jimmy were seemingly best friends so he decided Tim and Jimmy, then Gibbs, Tony and him. He wasn’t happy with that, but he wasn’t about to claim a single for himself, it wouldn’t be fair. He scribbled a quick note or two then settled back to read until landing.

.

Their landing and subsequent trip through security was just as boring as you might expect. The only bright spot was when Tony set the metal detector off. He flushed. “Sorry, sorry. I’m so used to wearing them that I completely forgot.” He pulled his dog tags out of his shirt and over his head. “Here.” He gave them to the security officer and went through the arch again. This time nothing happened.

The security officer was one of those people who sees words and reads them. “Thank you for your service, LtCmdr.” He offered a salute which Tony returned. 

Tim, Jimmy, and Gibbs remembered to remove their tags before going through the scanner. Abby silently resolved to ask for tags of her own.

Bright and Flower took a bit to get through as they had to wrestle their luggage. The TSA didn’t help with luggage, they just scanned it.

When they were finally outside, they found that the Wingate had sent a ‘short’ bus. There was plenty of room for everyone and the driver took Bright and Flower’s luggage, stowing it in the back luggage compartment. The rest of them refused to be separated from their rucks, shoving them under the seats instead.

.

Just as they were checking in, everyone’s phone began to ring. All the conversations went just about the same. Director Vance informed them that they were to turn over all electronic devices to either Miss Fields or Mr Sommers until they deemed it appropriate to return them.

Tony glared at his phone, then shut it off. Miss Fields could have it. He sent a text to Vance that stated he was turning over his NCIS issued phone under protest. Then he actually threw it at the woman. “Here! And if something goes tits up because of this, on your head be it.”

Abby also just tossed her phone in the general direction of the coaches. “Okay, here. But if I see a self-satisfied smirk on either of your faces, I’ll burn it off with acid. Asshole.”

Gibbs satisfied himself with tossing his phone on the check-in desk. “We’d like to check in, please. We need two rooms with two full-sized beds, and three singles.” He turned around and said, “The assignments are as follows: AJ and me; Tim and Jimmy; then Abby, Miss Fields, Mr. Sommers.” 

Flower frowned. “I’d thought that Abigail and I would share, then Tim, Jimmy, Anthony, you and Bright could buddy up three and two. Perhaps Tim and Jimmy would like a bit of time together?”

Tim flushed darkly, while Jimmy just looked at her like she’d lost her mind. “We’re friends. Without benefits. You’re an idiot. You assume, and you know what that means. If you don’t I’ll be happy to explain it to you, with diagrams and rude gestures.

Bright, who’d had great hope, until now, just gave Flower a truly fulminating look. “Miss Flower. Really. I’m quite put out with you. It would have been much better to persuade them to leave their phones and such behind. Now you’ve only put their backs up and made our job twice as hard.”

Flower managed to look smug without Abby noticing. Gibbs and Tony, however, did. “It’s just as well this way. They won’t be distracted by all those toys. We’ll get back in their good graces easily enough. After all, we’re the coaches and they have to do what we say or they won’t pass the requirements. We’re the judges, after all.”

Bright wondered why he hadn’t noticed how arrogant Flower could be. “We won’t get a thing done until they’re over being angry. That anger could have been avoided so easily. But ... done is done.”

Gibbs took the keycards from the desk clerk and handed them out. “Abby, across the hall from AJ and me. Jimmy, Tim: You’re next door on the right facing the door. Mr Sommers. You’re down the hall four doors. Miss Fields, you’re across the hall from him. Let’s go.” And with that he marched off, back stiff with outrage.

Tony followed him, just as outraged and stiff.

Tim took the keycard, grabbed his ruck and was on Tony’s heels with Jimmy right beside him

Abby took her keycard, grabbed her ruck and started to follow. She was stopped when Flower called her name.

Flower had decided to settle on the friendly but respectful, to her, appellation of Miss Abigail for Abby. Now, in the South, calling someone Miss was respectful but, since Abby hated being called Abigail, she started out on the wrong foot. In fact, she was just plain wrong-footed from the beginning.

Abby stopped, turned and barked, “Make it quick, they won’t hold the elevator forever.”

“Well, I was thinking we could share a room. A little female bonding thing.” Flower gave her a hopeful look, she thought. She just came off condescending.

“No, thank you. I have to make a fucking landline phone call to check in with my travel buddy. I can’t text or email since you stole my damn phone. And I’m not in the mood to have you try to braid my fucking hair. Thankyouverymuch, get outa my face.” Abby scurried to catch the elevator and sulked, arms crossed all the way to their floor.

When they arrived, everyone scrambled to reach their rooms before they got trapped in another whiny attempt to guilt-trip them into doing something they didn’t want to do.

Tony announced, “Okay, everyone. Get a good night's rest; we’re going to be up early. Wheels up is, due to Miss Flower’s interference, oh-fucking-dark-thirty.” He gave Bright a hairy eyeball. “I had arrangements to take a chopper from the military portion of Helena Airport at 0930. But, now, we’re leaving from a private field at 0530. Sucks to be us.”

Flower flushed heavily. “Well, since Bright and I are supposed to be in charge of this exercise... Mandated, I might add, by Human Resources, as you all have, as I have noted, a rather bad attitude. I changed the arrangements in accordance with a necessary check-in time at the retreat. So excuse me for trying to do my job.” She sniffed once, grabbed her bags, and went into her room in a huff.

Bright sighed. “I know this is going to sound whiny but, we really are just trying to do our jobs. I know most people don’t like this sort of thing, but sensitivity training is mandated in the rules and regulations of most federal organizations. So, could we please have a little less hostility and a bit more cooperation? I do think things would go a lot better if you understood that we just want to make you a more sensitive and cooperative team.”

Gibbs eyed the man for a moment then snarled, “How fucking dare you say we don’t work as a team? I’m a Marine Scout Sniper, AJ’s a SEAL. Tim and Jimmy went through a modified SEAL training exercise and Abby’s ... Abby. She’ll do what I tell her to do without question, as long as she understands the necessity of waiting for explanations. You forced the rest of AJ’s SEAL team to fucking stay behind. All in all, you’ve done every fucking single damn thing you could to put our backs up, so excuse me if we aren’t fucking cooperative. You could have, in the spirit of team-building, discussed all your idiot decisions with us before they were finalized. Seems to me you’re the ones who need a bit of team-building and sensitivity training. Now ... fuck off.”

Bright grimaced at the realization that they had done exactly what Gibbs said. He got his luggage and dragged it into his room. He decided to discuss their errors with Flower at the retreat, after he’d had time to internalize his mistakes. No, their mistakes.

Gibbs avoided slamming the room door only because the hydraulic closer wouldn’t let him. 

Tony grinned. “Good job, Jet. I’m really not in a cooperative, team-building mood now. I’m gonna have to call Belt and tell him that bitch made me turn over my phone. Rule 3: Never be unreachable. NCIS is gonna be in deep shit if they need me and can’t reach me. But, Belt said to cooperate with those existentialist ivory tower new-age activists and their passive-aggressive PC Nazi ideology. Fucktards.”

Gibbs snorted a laugh. “No, AJ, don’t hold back. Tell me how you really feel.”

“Yeah, well.” Tony ruffled his hair. “I just know this is going to turn around and fucking bite us in the balls.”

.

Flower carefully put each phone in a separate bag, labeled with the name of the owner. She had also demanded iPads, tablets, and so on at the check-in desk. They had grudgingly been turned over as well. With a number of unpleasant remarks. She then put all the bags into a larger one and put it on the desk. She wrote some notes, then absently shoved everything into the desk drawer. She’d deal with it all later.

She wondered where they were going to get breakfast at five in the morning. She absolutely hated starting her day without something to eat. She checked her documentation and found that the motel provided a Continental breakfast from 4:30 am to 10:30 am. She took down her hair, undressed, and found her robe. She sat down to brush out her hair and decide what to wear tomorrow.

While Flower was having a sulk, Abby was calling her travel buddy. 

“Hey, Clyde. ... Yeah, I know. But that dipshit Flower insisted we turn our cells over to her, the bitch. And Vance ass-kissed right along with her. The SecNav is going to have a fit. ... Yeah, Rule number Three. Never be out of touch. Or, don’t believe what you’re told. Double check. ... I know, but it’s Gibbs. So ...” Abby listened to her friend complain about his boss for a while then said, “Look, this is running up your phone bill something awful. We’ll be at Glacier some time after about 0930. I’ll give you a quick call to let you know we’re there. Thanks for doing this for me. Huggles, bye.” She hung up before Clyde could get started again. She loved him to death, but he was a talker. She didn’t want to put the burden of a huge collect call bill on his shoulders.

After washing up and getting into her pajamas, Abby turned on the TV and settled in to watch the local news. There was WiFi but she didn’t have either her tablet, phone, or computer. She was going to fix that jackwad Bright for snitching on her. Somehow. She finally fell asleep, still fuming.

Tony and Gibbs indulged in a sit-up/pushup contest, took showers, then went to bed. They both were capable of falling asleep anytime, anywhere, whenever they needed to. As Tony put it, “Oh-dark-thirty comes damn early.”

Gibbs just grunted. He was pissed and didn’t care who knew it. This whole SNAFU was turning into a giant grenade liable to blow their collective asses off.

Tony, pissed himself, didn’t bother to do more than say good-night before he turned the lights out.

Tim and Jimmy did a round of bitching and swearing then took their showers, changed, put out clothing, and went to bed themselves. They both liked the TV on, so they left it down low and soon were asleep too.

Bright, for his part, was realizing that they had, somehow, disrupted a settled team for no reason other than ‘regulations said’. He’d had this situation before, with a different partner. They’d just gone through the exercises so they could check them off as done. It had been quite fun for all of them, but Flower seemed determined to cause problems and he didn’t understand her at all. This was only his second retreat with her and he was thinking that there wouldn’t be a third if he had anything to say about it. And, as a senior coach, he did.

.

The next morning saw the NCIS team up and ready at 0430. Abby was grumpy, as was Gibbs; they both would remain so until what Tony called ‘coffee thirty’. Tim and Jimmy were ready to go, as was Tony. But they were all more than a little pissed that their planned I-Hop breakfast was X’ed. 

Tony glanced at his watch. “Bright and Flower are both late. Knock or let ‘em suffer?”

“Knock. I’m not about to have that whiny female blame me because she can’t get her ass out of bed on time.” Gibbs suited action to words and pounded on her door. Since he was in a bad mood it was the sort of knock that was usually followed by, “NCIS! Open up!” In this case he just went on to Bright’s door and did the same thing.

Bright opened his door, exclaiming, “My goodness! I’m up.” He went back into his room, calling over his shoulder, “Just let me get my things.”

Gibbs and Tony were slightly mollified to see that he was dressed in t-shirt, jeans, hiking boots, and light jacket. Tim and Jimmy had agreed on the silent treatment the night before.

Flower, for her part, was still dressing; she wasn’t going anywhere without makeup on. She was a bit more sensibly dressed in a button-down shirt, lightweight cotton dress pants, and a pair of those ugly old-lady shoes usually advertised as sensible walking shoes. She scrambled to finish, grabbed her suitcase and carry-on, then hurried out. 

Abby was dressed in BDU’s, t-shirt, flannel over shirt, boonie, and her new ‘soldier’ boots. 

Since the bus was waiting for them, Bright and Flower both turned their suitcases over to the driver. Gibbs and team were reluctant to part with their rucks until the man smiled and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of your dates.”

Gibbs raised an eyebrow but relented when the driver closed the luggage compartment and proceeded to put each ruck in the overhead, right over a seat with the names out. “There we are.” He smiled and said, “Aren't Ready for Marines Yet.”

Tony snorted a laugh. “Oh. SEAL. Like it wet.”

The driver gave a sloppy salute then said, “You better get in to breakfast, or all the good stuff will be gone.”

Tim glanced at his watch. “This early?”

“Well, now you mention it, probably not.” With that, the driver climbed in and settled into his seat, pulled out a book and began to read.

Tony led the way into the lobby where the buffet-style Continental breakfast was set up.

They went around the buffet, filling their plates with pastries and toast. There was nothing much else, as most Continental breakfasts were just fruit, breads, cereal, coffee, tea and juice.

Tony took two boxes of Wheaties, juice, coffee and an apple fritter. When he looked around for milk, there was none. He shrugged and poured some coffee on them, sugared the mess and started to eat.

Abby, grumpy and still half asleep, stole the bowl right out of his hand. He just smirked at Gibbs and waited.

Abby spooned up a mouthful of cereal, eyed it, then announced, “Damn it, Tony, you’re such a freak. Coffee on Wheaties. That’s just ... ick.”

Tony took back his bowl and said, “There’s no milk. Sorry, Abby.”

Abby just got her coffee, swilled down about half the cup at one go then took a danish off the platter. “I want IHOP. I’ve been cheated. Damn it.”

Tim said sourly, “Well, we’d have had plenty of time if a certain officious dickwad hadn’t messed things up. I allowed for it.”

Flower sighed. She wasn’t exactly sure how she’d messed up so badly but she was well aware that she had. She meant well, she just wanted so badly to have everyone see that the world would be a so much better place if people would just avoid offending each other. Sensitivity to others' feelings was important, and so many people refused to see that they had to tread carefully. She never realized that she needed sensitivity training more than the NCIS team did. Hobnailed boots didn’t begin to describe her actions in regards to her training sessions.

Gibbs got his coffee, a Danish, and some juice. He settled next to Tony, peered into the bowl he was holding, and announced, “Abby’s right, that’s just nasty.” 

Tony offered his bowl to Tim. “Want?”

Tim turned his nose up. “No, you’re disgusting. Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

“Not. Wrong equipment.” Tim helped himself to a couple of jelly-filled and coffee.

Flower was horrified; she couldn’t deal with such negativity this early; but when she started to say something Bright actually shushed her. 

“Not now. Observe the team dynamics, if you please.” Bright was beginning to see the problem. NCIS Human Resources was staffed by politically aware sociologists and psychologists for the most part. They had no idea how the military mind worked, so, when they saw the typical attitude of military, ex-military, or quasi-military personnel, they had no frame of reference. This was not going to wind up pretty if Flower didn’t get her head out of her ass. He was not hopeful.

Jimmy got into the conversation when he found the coffee pot empty. “You’re all assholes. Who emptied the pot, then didn’t make more? Jerks.”

Bright realized that he was the culprit and owned up. “I’m so sorry. That was me. I assumed that the server would make more. Evidently not.” He hurried to make another pot but Jimmy was making it. 

He was also grumbling rather audibly. “And where is said server? Please point him or her out to me. Self-righteous, entitled, libtard. Damn it.”

Bright wondered what had brought about that last damn it, then realized that it was time for the bus to leave so Jimmy wasn’t going to get any coffee. He sighed. “I’m sorry. Here ... have mine.” Jimmy just took the cup and drank it. Bright flinched as it was, to him, boiling. “Oh, my giddy Aunt Minny. You’ll burn your mouth.”

Jimmy eyed him then reached around him to grab a sweet roll. “Mmmm, sticky bun.” He then walked over to Abby, satisfied he’d made his opinion clear without being actively rude.

Tim dodged Flower to grab another roll, handing the first one off to Gibbs and another off to Abby. He got one for himself then retreated to lounge in a chair away from the buffet. He and Jimmy had grabbed chairs in the main lobby just to keep out of the way of any fireworks.

Gibbs eyed the clock, then his watch. He blinked at it for a moment as something knocked at his consciousness. “Mmm? Abby?”

Abby looked up from her second cup of coffee. “Gibbs?”

“Watch?” Gibbs was sure the last time he’d seen that particular watch it had been on Ziva’s wrist.

“Ziva sent it to me. Said I needed it more than she did. Remy got it adjusted.” Abby jerked her head at their coaches. Gibbs nodded his understanding, got another cup of coffee and settled against the chair Tim was sitting in.

He managed a look at Tim’s watch. It was the watch Tony had given him. He also got a good look at Jimmy’s watch. It was the same design as the watches Tony had given the NCIS team.

Jimmy noticed the look, smiled, and said, “Birthday.”

Gibbs said, “Ah,” and left it at that.

It wasn’t long before their driver came in. “People! All Pax for Glacier taxi run board the bus, please.”

The group headed out for the bus, boarded and settled in. Flower still hadn’t realized that she’d forgotten her notes and the cellphones, tablets, and computers that she’d confiscated. Lucky for her the cleaning lady checked the desk drawers and was honest. The desk clerk got one phone out of its baggie and called numbers until she got Vance himself. When he found out what had happened he blew his stack. He told her to send the equipment to NCIS: Attention Director Vance. He then sat down to worry.

While this was going on, the team had arrived at the airport. Since they were catching an airtaxi, they went to the small plane gate, boarded with a minimum of fuss and got seated. The plane was so small that they actually filled it except for two empty seats.

When they boarded they were told, by a very disgruntled pilot, that the steward had failed to show. They were on their own for the flight. Since it was just under 250 miles no one was too worried. Tony did mumble that, “It was just a hop by chopper. Now it’s a totally involved mess.”

Gibbs poked him in the ribs and muttered, “Sucks to be us. Sit down so we can get this dog and pony show on the road.”

Tim wondered if it was even legal to fly without a co-pilot, navigator, or steward.

Abby whispered, “I wonder what sort of fly-by-night, cracked-out bunch this is, anyway. I’m not happy in a big ol’ way.”

They took off with the usual pilot announcements to buckle up, etc. Tony noticed that the pilot’s voice seemed a bit tight. Gibbs did too, but they both passed it off as stress due to being the only crew. 

.

The pilot had been feeling ill all night, but the call came in, so he went. The company was suffering from the local version of ‘blue flu’. The company had cut staff, again, and everyone was stretched thin. He set the autopilot, never noticing that he’d set it wrong, heading for Kootenai Park instead of Glacier Park. He then had a heart attack and died right there in the cockpit with the door locked. 

Since the company was running on a shoestring as it was, the fuel load was more than just a little light. They would have been running on fumes by the time the plane landed. This meant that they had just a bit more than an hour of flight time.

The airstrip they were supposed to land at was exactly that, a private airstrip that was unmanned. The pilot would call from a phone and get the owner to come out and refuel him. He was also supposed to call the retreat to get the bus out to pick up his passengers.

As it was, no one was monitoring anything, they just waited to be called.

.

 

Chapter six

 

Gibbs looked at his watch, then frowned. “Shouldn’t we be starting landing procedures?”

Tony looked up from his book, eyed his watch then said, “We should have started to descend fifteen minutes ago. I don’t like this.”

Tim frowned, “If I had a tablet, or my phone, I could check our location and figure out what’s going on. As it is, I’m fucked.”

Jimmy scowled out the window. “The landscape doesn’t look right. There’s no glacier that I can see. All I can see is mountains and ... um ... mountains.”

Abby whimpered softly as the starboard engine sputtered and died. “Oh, my God.”

Flower tried to reassure everyone. “It’ll be okay. The pilot knows what he’s doing. Really, what could possibly go wrong?”

Tony snarled. “Great! Jinx us, why don’t you?”

Just then the other engine quit.

Gibbs went to hammer on the door between the passenger compartment and the cockpit. It didn’t do any good, no one even answered. He turned and ordered, “Tony, come help me force the door.”

Tony looked out the window. “Too late, Boss. Brace for impact.”

Flower started screaming, “Oh, my God. We’re going to die.” 

Abby reached across the aisle and slapped her. “Shut the fuck up. Brace yourself, or you will die.”

They all got into crash position, braced for impact. 

The plane didn’t glide into the ground so much as it pancaked into a stand of pine trees. This saved everyone’s ass as the trees snapped off, slowing the crash into something less disastrous. But it was still a very rough landing. The belly was ripped open and freight scattered everywhere. The nose and pilot’s cabin was smashed into scrap, along with the radio and Emergency Locator Transponder beacon. The pilot’s body was thrown clear.

Tony came to at the same time Gibbs did. “Ow. Boss, I don’t give a fuck what you say about it. No more of this shit. I’m never leaving my travel plans in the hands of anyone but you or Tim. Seriously.” He undid his seatbelt, then realized that the plane was at an odd angle, one wing in the ground and the other in the air. The plane was also nose down. 

Gibbs took his seatbelt off too. “Well, who’s hurt and who’s just bruised?”

Jimmy struggled with the angle of the plane then said, “I need a bit of help. Tony?”

Tony nodded. “I’ll help you to the ground, then we’ll get everyone down to you. We’ll have to take a chance with the pilot. Okay?”

Jimmy nodded. “I can’t do anything without my ruck, or in this mess.” He struggled to his feet and got his ruck out of the overhead compartment. “I’m ready.”

Tim said, “We’re about five feet off the ground. The nose is on the ground.” He looked up. “And we better move it. That wing doesn’t look like it’s going to stay attached much longer.”

Gibbs nodded at the door. “See if you can get that open. I’ll see if I can’t get into the pilot’s compartment.”

Flower started to demand that they all stay seated but Gibbs turned on her with a ferocity that scared her. “Lady, shut the fuck up. It’s not time for your sensitive, affronted politically correct ass to do anything but obey orders. If you don’t, we’ll leave you behind.” He turned on Bright. “And that goes for you too.”

Bright gave up before he even started, this was definitely not the time to argue with someone who obviously knew a great deal more about the situation than he did. “No problem. You say, I do.” He settled back in his seat as best he could.

Tim tried to open the door but, since it was on what was now the top of the body he wasn’t having any luck. “Need help here. The door is too heavy for me to move by myself.”

Tony nodded. “Might be jammed as well. Let’s see about the pilot and find out if there’s some other way out.”

Gibbs and Tony finally forced the door. “Well, shit.” Tony looked down on nothing. The nose was gone and they were some five or so feet off the ground there too. He looked around a bit more. “Don’t see the pilot, but I see the nose assembly. What’s left of it.”

It took a bit of maneuvering to get everyone on the ground but a bit of muscle, a bit of luck and some teamwork saw the job done.

Jimmy gave everyone a quick checkup and announced that, outside of a few bruises, everyone was in good health. Their luck had held on that.

Abby eyed the wreck with a professional eye. “We ran out of fuel. Landed on fumes. What the hell was the pilot thinking?”

Gibbs shook his head. “When we find the pilot we’ll ask him. AJ, find him. Jimmy, Tim, look around for anything useful.”

Tony found the body. He examined the body then called, “Jet, over here.”

Gibbs trotted over, took one look and said, “Man had a heart attack and died at the wheel. Well, fuck. That means no Mayday went out. See if you can find the radio.”

Tony figured it was a lost cause but knew they had to look. “Okay. Jet? What about supplies?”

“Most of the cargo seems to have been non-consumables. And it’s scattered and damaged. We’ll see.” Gibbs eyed the sky, realized that it was just barely true dawn and sighed. “How long do you figure before someone starts to look?”

Tony thought about that. “Well. Abby’s travel buddy will probably start to worry about her after he gets off work. That’s at 1700. Maybe a couple of hours later. Belt won’t start for at least 48 hours. No telling what the retreat will do.”

Gibbs swore softly. “So we can’t expect anyone to even realize that we’re missing for up to two days. Damn.”

Tony added, with considerable bitterness, “And Miss Flower has our phones. There’s a chance that one of us can get a signal but she put her luggage in baggage instead of carrying anything on. So, we’ll have to find her shit before we can try to call anyone.”

Gibbs snarled. “And Bright admitted that she took his phone too. What is it with that? As much as I hate cell phones, I want mine, right now.”

They returned to the rest of the group to check on what was going on.

Abby had piled their rucks over a slight ridge, just in case the plane decided to blow up or something. Jimmy and Tim were backtracking over the trail of spilled cargo, looking for anything useful.

Gibbs called them in and asked them to report. 

“Nothing much. Most of the cargo was machine parts. Looks like a generator in pieces and some coffee makers. Electric hand drills, a few tools. Things like that. I haven’t found a suitcase yet. I want my phone back, like, right now.”

Flower paled. “Oh, no! Oh! Nono.”

Bright took her hands and patted them. “Now, Flower, calm down. We’ll be fine. All it’ll take is a simple call to ... someone. They’ll find us in no time.”

“No! I forgot them. They’re all still in Helena. Even mine.” Flower began to sob.

Gibbs, quick on the uptake, shared a horrified and disgusted look with Tony. “Okay. Not good.” He turned to Flower and barked, “Damn it, woman, stop that bawling. Do. Not. Tell me you left our equipment behind.”

“I did. I didn’t mean to. I put it away and ... and ... when you knocked I forgot about it because I didn’t have my makeup on yet.” She looked around helplessly.

Abby frowned then snarled, “You’re sitting there, telling us you forgot something important because you didn’t have lipstick on yet? Holy hell.”

Flower just sobbed miserably.

Bright frowned then announced, “Well, Flower, I have to admit that I am bitterly disappointed in you. This is a complete disaster. What are we to do now?”

Tony nodded to Gibbs. “We’ve all got watches. It’ll be ... probably late evening before Belt starts a search. So ... I’ll activate my watch at 1700, you at 1800 and so on. That’ll give us five hours of continuous transmission. Then ... well, we’ll have an overlap of fifteen minutes but we’ll have some sort of SOS going out for at least ten days. Abby’s watch will give out first but we’ll still be good.”

Jimmy thought for a second then said. “Why activate them so close together? Why not activate yours now, and wait until the battery is about to give out before starting another?”

Tony thought for a moment then said, “Better idea. Okay. I’ll start mine this evening. Then we’ll wait five days and start someone else’s. Now. Any good news on the supplies front?”

Gibbs said, “We need to take inventory to see what we’ve got. And we need to get some better clothing for ... her.” He jerked his head at Flower who was still sobbing nosily. “And someone shut her the fuck up.”

Bright knelt down on the ground beside Flower and spoke softly to her. No one bothered to try to listen in, they were too busy trying to figure out how they were going to survive.

Tim glanced up at the sky. “Jet? How good are you at celestial navigation?”

Gibbs shrugged. “Fair to middlin’. But I don’t have a sextant. Or the tables. I found an app that has them in it. I would have brought my book if I’d known a certain featherhead was going to forget my damn phone.”

Tony sighed. “Well, damn. Dead reckoning it is then.”

Jimmy blurted. “I can do that. I mean, I was taught ... and taught a class. It’s not going to be easy. We have absolutely no idea where to start from, or where we should be going.” he rubbed his face. “Well, shit.”

Tony thought for a moment. “Okay. Here’s what I think. First, we need to take inventory, like Jet suggested. Tim?”

“On it.” Tim had a good idea what everyone had. He patted his pockets then sighed. “By hand, damn it. It’d be so much easier if I had my phone. I’ve got all our supplies in a database there. But ... paper it is.”

Tony glanced at Gibbs. “Ideas? Suggestions? General bitching?”

Gibbs thought. “Well. Inventory. Then we need to find Bright and Flower’s luggage. That’s number one on the find-it list. Then we need to go through the cargo to find anything that’ll help us. I suggest that Tony and I look for luggage and finish rummaging the cargo. While we’re doing that, Tim and Jimmy will set up camp. Abby, you get to babysit those two. Keep them out of the way.”

Abby pouted. “Okay, but I object. On general principles, you understand. Why should I waste time keeping them from doing anything else stupid. All they have to do is sit somewhere. I could be starting a fire. Or catching a fish. Or gathering wood. Or any number of more useful things.”

Tony shook his head. “This situation is FUBAR enough without them helpfully fucking up something. And see if you can’t find the black box. Take them with you.”

“Okay, but what about him?” Abby waved a hand in the general direction of the captain.

Tim shook his head. “Not much we can do for him except bury him. I’ll see to that as soon as we have camp set up. Trenchin’ Tool?”

Gibbs nodded at his pack. “I’ve got one. Tony?”

Tony nodded. “I do too.”

Tim said, “I have one. That makes three.”

Jimmy shook his head. “No, four. I’ve got one.”

Gibbs glanced at Jimmy then motioned to him. “A minute.”

Jimmy nodded. “Got a lot of those.”

“Shock? Anyone?”

Jimmy eyed the group. “Bright and Flower definitely. Abby a bit. But Tim and Tony are fine. I’ll probably fall over tonight, but I’m good for now. Wouldn’t turn down a hot, sweet drink.”

“I’ll see you have one as soon as we have fire.” He turned to call Abby. “Abs?”

Abby trotted over. “Gibbs?”

“You bring that bag of extras you have?” Gibbs was referring to a bag of leftovers from MRE’s and carry-out dinners that Abby kept. It was mostly tea bags and instant coffee from MRE’s, as well as condiment packets and such. He knew that there was hot chocolate. “Jimmy needs a hot drink. He’s not feeling that well. You?”

Abby held out a hand which trembled slightly. “I’m okay. I want a drink too. That’s why I want a fire so bad.”

Jimmy nodded. “I’ll start one. I have a match safe. Abby? Could you start gathering wood?”

Gibbs was feeling a bit petty so he dropped a comment on Bright and Flower as he walked by. “Now you see real teamwork. Not some set-up games. I want both of you to find some place to be. Stay out of our way. We don’t have time to fuck with you.”

Bright nodded. “If there’s anything I can do, let me know.” He dragged Flower over to a log and sat down, plunking Flower down beside him. “Sit and watch. We’re in a real mess, and they don’t need us trying to conduct some silly seminar. Survival first, seminar ... to be frank, forget it for the foreseeable future. Do not antagonize them, please.”

Flower was feeling terribly guilty; she had taken all means of communication with the outside world and promptly lost them. She sat down to watch and try to learn.

Abby and Jimmy made a fire pit and started a small fire, then Abby walked the clearing, picking up anything that would burn. 

When the fire was burning well, Abby produced bottled water, scavenged from the plane, poured it into her small boiler and set it on the edge of the fire. 

While they were doing that, Gibbs and Tony were going through everyone’s rucks, getting the things to set up a camp for the night. 

Tony nodded. “I’ve got a Diamond Fly, a sleeping bag, ground cover, and blue pad. You?”

Gibbs glanced up from Jimmy’s pack. “Me too.” He poked at something then smiled, “Jimmy has a bag, ground cover, and blue pad. Bet Tim does too.” He nodded at Abby’s pack. “I know Abs does because I packed them myself. Wonder what the hell the wonder twins packed.”

Tony rubbed his face. “Wouldn’t think they packed anything really sensible. Bet it’s all cotton work casual and stupid shoes. If we ever find their shit. So,” he slapped his hands on this thighs as he stood up. “Let’s go do what we can for the captain.”

They both picked up a shovel and headed out. It took them seconds to return to the pilot’s body. 

“Wonder what the hell went wrong.” Gibbs examined the body with clinical detachment. “Shake him down while I start digging.”

Tony searched the captain, taking a Zippo lighter from his pocket. He also took his wallet for the ID. Abby came to see if she could help in any way.

Gibbs considered that for a moment then said, “We really need something for a shroud. See what you can find.”

Abby was ready for that. “I already found a nice piece of canvas. It was wrapped around a case of machine parts. The case exploded on impact. Not blew up exploded but busted open exploded. I brought it ... just in case.”

Gibbs took the canvas; after laying it on the ground he said, “Get his feet and we’ll wrap him up.”

Abby helped move the body onto the canvas and roll it up. “Ok ... now what?”

“We bury him as deep as we can manage, then pile stuff on top to mark the grave and keep animals from digging him up.” Gibbs turned to help Tony dig. “You wanna go get everyone? We’ll say a few words then get on with it.”

Abby busied herself with finding something to cover the grave with. She came up with several fairly flat pieces of metal and some rocks. Tim came to help, as well as Jimmy. Bright and Flower stayed in camp, as ordered, and fed the small fire to keep it burning. And make sure that the water boiled for their drinks.

Abby sighed, wiped her hands on the seat of her pants and said, “Someone ought to say something over him.”

Tony shrugged. “No idea. Never really met the man.”

Gibbs grumbled, “Need a chaplain for that sort of thing.”

Tim and Jimmy both looked uncomfortable. Tim finally said, “One of us ought to say something. Seems disrespectful not to.”

Tony shrugged, “I only know one, and it’s only for sailors.”

Abby thought about that for a second then said, “Well, he sailed the sky?”

Jimmy said, “I’ll go get Bright and Flower.”

When they returned, Tony nodded. “Please bow your heads in respect. This man is unknown to us, so we pray:

“O Eternal Lord God, who alone spreads out the heavens and rules the raging of the seas, receive into your protection all those who go down to the sea in ships and occupy their business on the great waters. Preserve them both in body and soul, prosper their labors with good success, in all times of danger, be their defense, and bring them to the haven where they would be, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.”

Flower sighed. “That was very nice. Poor man.”

Bright nodded. “Is there anything else we should do?”

Gibbs shook his head. “Rescue will come find him. The black box should be blipping by now. But don’t count on it. No one will think to look for us for a bit yet.” He started walking back to camp.

Tony grumbled as he followed. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this. We flew way too long. I wasn’t paying attention, I was actually reading a book. So ... Anyone have any idea?”

Flower sighed. “I was thinking we were in flight too long, by about fifteen minutes or so. So how far could we have over-shot our ... um ...” she waved a hand.

Gibbs frowned. “Tim?”

Tim thought for a moment then said, “I don’t know the air speed but fifteen minutes at the average top speed of that type of plane could equal as much as two or three hundred miles. Not sure. But ... and I don’t think we flew over Glacier. This whole thing is just so FUBAR it’s past SNAFU and into TARFUN. I think, if we wait until dark and take a star sight ... between us we can figure our general location. At least enough to know if we need to stay put or start walking.”

Bright said, “But I was taught to stay with the vehicle. Why would we try to walk out?”

Jimmy sighed then explained. “Well, it’s like this. I think the man was having a myocardial infarction. So, he was distracted. What if he set the auto pilot wrong? There’s a chance that we’re nowhere near where the rescue is going to be looking. If that’s the case, we’ll have to hike it.”

Gibbs nodded. “That’s what I think happened.”

Bright nodded his understanding. “But ... if we find the black box, wouldn’t it tell us that?”

Tim nodded. “It would. If we could get it open and download the data to the laptop I don’t have. I could use some programs I have on the laptop I don’t have to figure out where we are. So. Basically, as far as electronic help goes, we’re screwed.” He scowled at Flower, who bowed her head.

Jimmy, ever the peacekeeper, just said, “Well, we don’t, you don’t, and that’s water over the dam. We need to deal with what we have. No one’s hurt much. A few bruises and bumps is all. 

They settled around the fire. Gibbs checked the water. “Hot enough. Abby?”

Abby handed over the packets of chocolate mix. “Here. There’s enough water for everyone to have a cup. I rummaged the plane for the water and got a couple of cups for Bright and Miss Flower. I bet neither one of them brought any gear.” She gave them both a stinkeye. “Did you.” It wasn’t a question.

Bright shook his head. “I know it’s not ecologically sound, but I rely on styrofoam cups. It’s just too much trouble to deal with a carry mug. Keeping it clean is ... problematic.” He took the cup Abby gave him. “Thank you very much, Dr. Sciuto.”

Flower accepted her cup without a word. She felt badly about leaving the equipment behind and had listened to Bright carefully. She was going to keep her opinions to herself and just observe. And try to be as small a burden as possible.

Gibbs finished serving the chocolate, taking the last cup for himself. “I suggest we just rest for the rest of the day. We’ll finish setting up camp in a couple of hours. Tony? Any hope of fish?”

Tony eyed the terrain. “If I can find a big enough stream, maybe.”

Tim settled back with his cup. “I’ll go over what we have available now.” He waited a moment then continued between sips. “Everyone on our team has a sleeping bag, ground cover, and blue pad, even Abby.” Abby smiled brightly at that. “We also have, between us, six MRE’s apiece. There’s enough bottled water to fill all the hydration packs once. We also have, thanks to Gibbs and Tony, two Diamond Fly tents. They’re small but they’ll shelter us all. If we get cozy. Our biggest problem? Clothing and proper boots for Bright and Flower.” He eyed them for a moment then said, ”And ... Do not tell me your shoes will do. They won’t. Please tell me you have proper boots in your luggage.”

Bright nodded. “I knew we were going on a couple of hikes, so I have good boots in my suitcase. If we find it.”

Flower nodded. “I brought boots too. But ... I hate jeans, so all I’ve got are what I’ve got on and a pair of corduroy pants.”

Abby sighed. “And there’s no way I’m loaning you any of my clothes. One, they’d hang off your hips and the legs are way too long. I’m five ten, you’re ... what? Five three ― four?”

Flower nodded. “Something like that. I’d really rather wear my own things too.”

Gibbs shrugged. “Wear whatever you like, just don’t come whining to us when you wind up bitten and scratched to bits. Tony? You ready to go find their fucking shit?”

“Yeah. Abby, keep the fire low. Tim, Jimmy, see about finding something bigger for the night.” He got up. “Wish we had an ax.”

Abby called, “I saw a box that looked like it might have some hand tools in it. If we’re really lucky, there’s a hatchet or a hand saw.”

Tony snarled to Gibbs as they stomped through the brush, “We should only be so lucky. Seriously. What the hell was that damn woman thinking? And Vance, to back her up? Not like we can’t follow a simple request like, ‘Keep your shit in your pocket while we’re working.’ Really.” He eyed the now obvious trail of wreckage the plane had left. 

When the plane had crashed it had been in a glide path, simply because they were lucky. It had dragged its belly on the ground, ripping the skin and scattering cargo all over the crash path. This path was as long as two football fields and twice as wide as the plane itself. They just started walking it.

Tony found the box Abby had scavenged for the tarp and looked in what was left of it. As Abby had said, it was all machine parts and useless to them. He found some tie-down strap fragments and took the longest of them. He moved on to the next thing, only to realize that it was a box of office supplies. “Well, if I wanted to write a letter, I’d be in good shape.” He scavenged some of the paper for kindling but left most of it as too heavy. 

The next box was something liquid that had leaked so he didn’t even touch it. 

Gibbs had moved to the other side of the path. He was lucky enough to find a suitcase. He didn’t even bother to try to open it, he just picked it up and went on.

It took them over an hour to finish their search. They found a backpack that was obviously lost luggage, a hatchet shoved into a box of odd hand tools, most of which were useless except for the hand saw. They also found a sleeping bag rolled up in a stuff sak. The rest of the things were all office supplies, cleaning supplies, and repair parts. 

Tony found another suitcase and a carry-on. Gibbs found the other carry-on, and some odds and ends of things that might be useful.

When they got back, Abby and Flower were missing. Gibbs looked at Jimmy. He flushed a bit but said, “Potty. Flower had to go.”

“Huh. So where?”

Tim snorted. “Back to the plane. She wanted to use the head there. Abby said she’d go with and look for blankets, pillows, anything useful in the plane. Flower offered to help.”

.

Abby nodded. “There’s the head. Use it or don’t. I really hope you know that the blue stuff isn’t good for skin. If it’s all over the place, use a damn bush.” She turned to check all the overheads, using a pry bar she’d found in the wreckage to open the stubborn ones. 

She found several pillows and took two. She also found several blankets, of the too-small variety most airlines seem to use. They were polyester, but Abby decided to take them anyway. She also found a partial roll of duct tape, a case of bottled water, some sodas, coffee grounds in single pot packs, candy bars and chips in cases and on the cart, and a sharp knife. She packed everything up in a bundle made from one of the blankets and motioned to Flower to come help her.

“Um ... I still have to go. That blue stuff was all over. I’ll just ... find a bush. I’ll be right back.” Flower headed outside to take care of business. 

Abby just shook her head. She was just about done being vindictive, but not just yet. She decided to take one last look around for anything salvageable. She’d made one big bundle of stuff but had second thoughts about trying to carry the mess. She opened the first aid box and was disgusted to find a half tube of polysporin, a box of band-aids, and a half dozen aspirin tablets. “What the hell? What a fly-by-night, cracked-out bunch.” She continued to mumble complaints as she went through the galley again. “No food. Just chips, cookies, and shit. At least there’s coffee. I’ll take a plate, cup, and flatware for Flower and Bright.” She slammed the last door closed and called, “Flower? I’m done.”

Flower had taken it upon herself to divide the bundle into three. “I just finished too.” She managed to look proud of herself. “I split the load a little better. Is there enough stuff to make a fourth?”

Abby nodded, dumping her load on the floor. “Yeah. Let’s get this all wrapped up and back to camp.”

It only took a yell to bring help in the form of Jimmy and Bright. Tim stayed with the fire.

When they got back to the fire, Gibbs presented Bright and Flower with their luggage. He took the backpack and the extra suitcase to a nearby rock, sat down and dumped the contents on the ground.

The suitcase turned out to be full of junk, obviously some mechanic's personal stash of repair parts; mostly light bulbs, switches and other small parts. The backpack was much more useful. It contained a much-needed sleeping bag, a mess kit, and some clothing. The jeans turned out to be too small for anyone, but the sweater fit Flower, while the flannel shirts and shirt jacket would fit any of the smaller people. 

Tony sat down next to Bright and said, “Need help going through that?”

Bright sighed, “I’m afraid I do. I’m not sure what I should keep and what not. And I don’t have a pack.”

Tony pointed. “Yes, you do. We found one you can have. Now, let’s see what’s what.”

It turned out that Bright had two pair of jeans, socks, boxers, t-shirts and a great pair of boots. His dress clothing was discarded as less than useless. The suit was polyester, as was the shirt. That left room for other supplies, such as the sleeping bag, blankets and pillow.

“Well, it looks like you’re pretty well set up. Even have a sleeping bag.” Tony frowned. “Now we have to take care of Flower.”

Abby, however, had already taken care of that. She’d sat down with Flower and said, “We need to figure out what you’ve got. Here, dump it all on this.” She spread a blanket on the bare dirt then emptied both the suitcase and carryon onto it. “Well, you’ve got basically nothing. No jeans ... this pair of cords is ok. But the rest of this is shit. You’re so screwed.” Everything Flower owned was polyester, except for the corduroy trousers and a wool cardigan. “You can take most of the jeans from that found pack and the shirts, but these ...” Abby brandished one of Flower’s boots, “are junk. You’re going to be barefooted in no time. Man.”

They finally managed to clothe Flower with the contents of the found pack, whether she liked jeans or not. And Abby, Tim, and Jimmy donated a piece each; Gibbs was way too wide in the shoulders for anything to fit her, while Tony’s only spares hung off her comically. She declared herself well enough with what she had.

They then had to come up with some sort of pack for Flower, as she couldn’t go tramping through underbrush dragging a suitcase. She managed for herself by using some of the cargo strapping to tie one of the blankets into what she called a bindle; she even managed shoulder straps. 

Tony eyed it for a moment then said, “Well, aren’t you the clever one. One homemade ruck. Good.”

Gibbs glanced around the group then announced, “We’ll rest up for the rest of the day, have MRE’s for dinner. Get a good night’s rest, we’re headed out tomorrow at dawn.”

Dinner was uneventful as everyone was now exhausted and still shaky. After setting camp, doing what needed doing, and reviewing their next steps, everyone was done for the day. They spent the afternoon laying around the camp. When darkness fell everyone did their best to find familiar stars. The tree cover caused problems so Gibbs, Tim and Tony trekked to the end of the crash path to see what stars they might recognize.

Tony glared at the clear, dark sky. “Well, Jet. I have to say ... I think we went way out of our registered flight path, but I’d hate to bet real money on it. I’d say we’re someplace in Canada. We’re way north of where we should be.”

Gibbs eyed the sky too. “I think you’re right. We need to head due South, it’s what rescuers would expect. And we might luck out and find a small town or outpost of some sort.”

“Well, let’s get back with the good news.”

Tim hadn’t said a word, he just stared at the stars for a while. “Wow. There’s so many.”

Gibbs thought about that. “Well, it’s really pretty but it also means there’s no pollution of any sort. That’s what makes me think we’re way north.”

Tim agreed, saying, “My conclusion too, Jet. Tony? You activate your watch yet?”

Tony’s voice from the darkness said, “Yeah. At 1700 Eastern Standard time.”

They returned to the fire with what information they had. Jimmy was philosophical. “Well, we’ll just have to get ourselves somewhere they might think of looking.”

Abby agreed. “Yeah. I can hike it, just not at a dead trot. Okay?”

Tony laughed, tugged one of her pig tails and said, “I know you can. If you can boogie all night, drink like a fish and show up to work the next day fresh as a daisy, you can do this.”

Flower however, had other ideas. “No! No, I’m not abandoning the plane. How will they know where we went if they find the crash and we’re not here. I’m staying right here, and so are you.”

Bright tried to reason with her. “Flower, my dear, surely you understand that we’re possibly miles and miles away from where we’re expected to be. we can’t just sit around and wait. We have to be pro-active.”

Everyone else just stared at Flower like she’d grown another head. She actually expected them to stay here, wait for someone to realize they were in trouble, then go look for them in the wrong place? She’d slipped her gears.

Tony eyed Gibbs then shrugged. Tim and Jimmy had the same thoughts as Tony and Gibbs. Abby was just shocked to her toes. The silly woman expected them to listen to her? No chance.

Gibbs took point on this one. “Okay, this is the way it’ll be. We’ll take a vote.” Flower brightened, surely everyone would see her objections as valid. “Everyone who wants to sit on their ass like an idiot hold up your hand.” Flower held up her hand. “Fine. Everyone who wants to follow men who’ve had extensive survival training, that means me, Tony, and Tim.” Everyone else held up their hands, except for Bright, who abstained.

“Ok, here’s how it is. Tim, Jimmy, Abby, AJ, and I are going. Bright, you and Flower are free to come or stay, it’s up to you. If you stay, we’ll leave you with four, and only four, MRE’s, four bottles of water, and whatever you can scrounge from the plane. If you come with us, we’ll share what we hunt with you; you’ll be responsible for camp duties, as I wouldn’t trust anything you gather. When we leave, I’ll leave a written note where people can find it, telling them which direction we’re going and why. Questions?”

There weren’t any. Gibbs settled down to write his note, put it in an envelope and put it on the counter in the galley. He stuck it down with a bit of duct tape then returned to camp to crawl into the shelter and settle in his sleeping bag.

They’d divided up with Abby, Flower, and Bright in one lean-to and Jimmy, Tim, and Tony in another. Gibbs was standing first watch. They would keep watch to keep the fire built up and watch for wild animals like bears or wolves. No one was sure that there were any, but they weren’t taking any chances. 

Gibbs woke Tony by kicking his foot. “AJ.”

“Up. Anything?” Tony crawled out of his sleeping bag.

Gibbs grunted, “Nope.” then crawled into the still-warm bag and went to sleep.

Tony walked around the camp; nothing was moving. He eyed the sky for the weather, but the serenely twinkling stars said no weather fronts were moving in. He was glad that it was summer. That meant that there were greens, cat-tail roots, fish, and rabbits available. Maybe even a deer or something. He was glad it wasn’t fall; snow would be a true killer.

.

Morning came on Jimmy’s watch; he’d stoked the fire a bit and had water heating. He didn’t bother to try to wake anyone. Tony and Gibbs got up with the sun, and they didn’t get out of their sleeping bags quietly. Gibbs kicked Tim’s feet, saying, “McGee! Up! Coffee!” Tim rolled over and got up like a cow, butt first.

Tony kicked Abby’s feet gently. “Abs! Up! Daylight’s a-burnin’.”

Abby got up and immediately started folding her gear, grumbling, “Damn cheerful asshat. Too fuckin’ early for that shit.”

Flower burrowed into her bag while Bright struggled to wake up. Neither one of them had slept properly. Flower had been too cold, while Bright had started at every sound.

Abby cheerfully settled by the fire, all her things put carefully in her pack. “Coffee. Real Coffee? Yum.”

Jimmy grinned at her. “It’s boiled, but I can strain it through my shemagh.”

Abby snickered then said, “But that’ll stain it.”

“Won’t matter, it’s brown anyway. And you’ve got one for everyone you said?”

Abby sipped at her coffee. “I do. I’ll hand them out in a bit. Coffee’s good.”

“Thanks.” Jimmy poured cups for everyone, allowing the grounds to settle between pours. “I think I kept most of the grounds out. There’s some mud in the bottom of the pot.”

Gibbs took his mug and settled down on a log. “We’ll use that to douse the fire.”

Tony and Tim came to the fire after taking down the flies and folding them. Tony put his away and handed Gibbs his. “Fly. Thanks, Jimmy.” he sighed. “Well, things are looking up.”

Flower looked up as the fly fluttered down on her. She grumpily dragged herself out of her bag and staggered to the fire. “Shower.”

Tony nearly choked on his coffee. “ ‘Scuse me?”

“I need a shower,” Flower explained her need as if she was talking to a three-year-old.

Tony pointed in the general direction of the sound of running water. “Bath. There. Make it quick.”

Flower blinked. “You mean to tell me that a stream is ...” She finally woke up completely. “Never mind. No idea what I was thinking. Coffee, please.”

It wasn’t long before they had finished their scanty meal of energy bars and coffee. 

Gibbs nodded to Tony. “We ready?” 

Tony glanced around. “Think so. Area’s policed, note left. Anything else?”

Gibbs shrugged. “Everyone packed up?”

Everyone nodded. 

“Okay, wheels up.” 

They moved out, unconsciously taking up formation. Gibbs went first, then Jimmy and Tim on each shoulder. After them came Bright, Flower, and Abby, with Tony in the rear as eyes behind.

Not that there was anything to look out for, but war habits aren’t broken. 

.

 

Chapter seven

 

The resort staff were all responsible people but they were also used to sensitivity workshops falling through at the last minute, especially with LEO’s. The desk clerk noticed that no one had called for the car at about 5:30 pm. She left a note on the bulletin board, asking if anyone had gotten a cancellation. No one had but she wouldn’t know that until Tuesday afternoon when her next shift started. 

She then called the airline, got connected to some young thing who wasn’t sure if she was supposed to do something or someone else was. They told her to just find someone in charge and tell them. Mary called local dispatch and asked them. The dispatcher told her, if they had missing people to call the sheriff’s office. She did but was told they didn’t deal with missing airplanes unless it was stolen. Mary, not knowing anything else to do, told the dispatcher that the plane, with a full complement of souls on board, hadn’t shown up where it was supposed to; now they knew everything she did and they could do whatever.   
.

Gibbs set the pace at something close to a leisurely walk. He chafed at the snail's pace, but knew that he had to keep down to something the weakest members of the group could keep up. 

They walked until the sun was high then Gibbs called a halt. “We’ll stop for an hour. Eat, drink, rest. We’ll have to stop at about 1600 so we can set camp, gather wood, and forage.”

.

Clyde looked at his watch, then his phone. Abby should have checked in yesterday at noon latest. He was really getting worried. He’d called the police yesterday evening and been informed that there was nothing they could do about it. If he had proof that something was wrong, they still couldn’t do anything but call a local sheriff. This was DC, that was Montana, and way out of their jurisdiction. The officer he talked to was sympathetic but not real helpful. 

He worried over that until the end of the day then went to speak with his supervisor. Allan was also a friend of Abby’s and just as worried as Clyde. He, however, had a solution. He called Director Vance. 

He dialed NCIS, got put on hold, shifted to a different department, put on hold again, then transferred back to the main switchboard to a different operator. He finally lost his temper and demanded to speak to someone with some sense. The operator hung up on him.

Now, Clyde was an IT tech of exceptional skills. He was not quite on Abby or Tim’s level but he was good enough to hack Vance’s direct NCIS phone number.

“Vance.”

“Mr Director, you don’t know me but ... and please don’t hang up on me. I’m Abby Sciuto’s travel buddy. She was supposed to check in with me when she got to Glacier. On a land line. She was really pissed she had to give up her phone. And, by the way, what’s up with that, all anyone had to do was just shut it off. Anyway, she hasn’t called me yet and she’s usually really good about calling in on time. Something’s wrong but no one will listen to me. Please, just check up on her. Okay? And give me a call back? Please?”

Leon Vance might make foolish decisions, as all people do from time to time, but he was no fool. The young man sounded truly worried.

“Okay, I’ll call the park and ask to speak to Gibbs. I’ll give you a call when I find out something.” He started to hang up, then remembered, “Oh, and don’t try to trace Abby by her phone. It’s on its way back here. The female coach who confiscated all the phones left them in the damn hotel room.”

Clyde groaned. “Oh, man. Abby’s gonna be so pissed. That wasn’t good. Not good at all. I’ll be waiting for your call. Let me give someone a couple of numbers.”

Vance agreed to that. “I’ll transfer you to my personal secretary. Hang on.” He started the transfer then, before he connected Cynthia, he told her to get Clyde’s numbers for him.

Then he hung up and immediately dialed Glacier Park Hotel and Resort. It didn’t take long to be connected to the check in.

“Hello. My name is Leon Vance; I’m the director of NCIS. I’m calling to speak to any member of the group there for a Sensitivity and Team-Building Seminar. To whom am I speaking?”

The girl easily gave her name as Mary. “I’m sorry, sir. They failed to check in. I called the sheriff and the company who held their flight. No one seemed to be too worried. I’m not sure what else I was supposed to do. I’m really sorry.”

Leon heard the worry in her voice, which indicated that she was very young. “I’m sure you did your best. I’ll deal with it from here on in. Thank you.”

Mary sighed, much reassured by his commanding but kindly tone. She told her supervisor that she was sure something had gone wrong but was told that it wasn’t their business. She frowned then announced, “Well, I’m so glad that the safety of our guests isn’t our business. I quit.” She handed her name badge and jacket to the woman and stormed out to head for home to cry on her father's shoulder.

Since he was the director of Search and Rescue for the area it did a great deal more good than she expected. He started an inquiry.

.

Sam Brown, known as Belt, was not happy. He’d tracked LtCmdr DiNozzo’s phone but it was actually flying the wrong way. The speed it was traveling and its actual path told him that. This was worrying, as DiNozzo was supposed to be in Glacier National Park. The fact that he hadn’t called to check in pissed him off. It wasn’t like the responsible SEAL to skip a check-in unless something was very wrong. His belly churned.

“Sir!” Captain Rafe McKinley looked up from his work. “I’m sorry to disturb you, sir.”

Captain McKinley sighed. “Cut the crap, Belt, what the hell.”

“DiNozzo hasn’t checked in yet. I’ve tracked his phone but it’s headed back to DC as far as I can tell. So, Whiskey Tango Hotel?”

Captain McKinley was well aware that Belt didn’t jump to conclusions so he just said, “Call Vance, find out what he knows, then fix it.” He returned to his work. He’d take care of the problem himself but he was in the middle of planning a clandestine operation into Syria. He couldn’t take the time out. But Belt would take care of it.

Meanwhile, Director Vance was calling Glacier Park Search and Rescue. He got Mary’s father, George Martin.

“Hello. My name is Leon Vance.” After they got the pleasantries out of the way, George told Leon that his daughter had already started the search. They wouldn’t have been able to start it any earlier than they had, what with the requirements for lapsed time from check-in and darkness. He’d already called the airline and been told that they were also worried, as the pilot hadn’t come back to his home hangar when he was supposed to. The resort had also called, not the main desk, but the Chief Groundsman. He wanted to know where all his supplies were. 

“So we’re gearing up. What can you tell me about your people?” George knew that knowing something about the people could give them a handle on what they might do.

“I’ll send you dossiers on the NCIS personnel. I won’t have anything on the two coaches.” They exchanged email addresses, then hung up.

The second he hung up Leon’s phone began to ring again. “Vance.” Since it was his private phone, he was short.

“Sam Brown here. What have you heard about DiNozzo?” Lt. Brown was short too.

“Didn’t check in at the resort when they should have. Abby didn’t check in with her travel buddy. He got hold of me, I called the resort. They’re all missing. Plane too. Can you track them?” Vance held out some hope that SEAL CenCom had some way.

“DiNozzo, Gibbs, McGee and Palmer have experimental watches with yelpers build in. But they rely on our dedicated satellite. There’s no way to track them in the wilds of Montana with ours. I’ll see if we can’t get some time on someone else’s. I think Sciuto has David’s watch now. I’ll check. We’ll find them. ...” He started to hang up then said. “Leon, remember this: DiNozzo and Gibbs had the harshest survival training there is. I know McGee had some in his Webelos leader training. Palmer is smart and has every Boy Scout badge there is. Don’t know about Miss Sciuto, but she’s with them. If nothing else, they’ll hole up with the plane and wait.”

“Thanks. I needed to hear that. The two coaches worry me.” Vance sighed.

Belt was flat out uninterested. “If they obey DiNozzo and Gibbs, they’ll be fine. If they don’t, they’re fucked. Can’t do anything from here.”

They hung up and went about their business. Vance to worry, Lt. Brown to go tell Master Chief Petty Officer Remiel Devereaux, Chief Warrant Officer Dean Cale, and Chief Petty Officer Cosmo Richter that their CO and companions were missing.

The result was everything he expected. They just stood at attention for a moment, then Remy said, “Permission to speak, sir.”

“Relax, gentlemen, I’m looking for suggestions here.” Belt motioned to a small conversation area to the side of his desk. 

Everyone took seats and started to figure out what to do.

Remy announced, “They’ll stay with the plane, barring unforeseen circumstances. If they have wou ... injured, Doc can deal.”

“Who?” Belt wasn’t up on all the details.

“James Palmer. He’s a real doctor, medic trained. Did two tours in Washington U. ER. Badger call him Gremlin. He carry a full damn field hospital in his ruck.” Remy nodded his satisfaction. 

“I feel better already. I know most of the group are wearing those beta watches. But can we track them?”

Dean sighed. “Our sat won’t reach that far inland. Digimon could piggyback something onto something else and find it in three seconds. Might take our people a day. But, if we can catch a signal, their GPS signal will locate them to within three feet. Problem is finding the signal and piggybacking it.”

Belt nodded, “Okay, turn that mess over to someone else and get out there.”

The three men jumped to their feet, saluted and headed out the door. It wouldn’t take them long to gather their rucks and head out. They decided on a public carrier because the only C-130 headed in that direction was dropping off and picking up at every major and minor military airport between DC and Helena.

It was a mess getting through security as they hadn’t cleaned their packs and the inspector was inclined to be nit-picky. Her supervisor finally told them to check their bags or get out of line and take the next flight. They checked their bags, under protest. Loud, profane protest.

On the plane, they all slept, keeping to the military axiom of, ‘Never pass up a chance to shit, shower, eat, or sleep. You never know when you’ll get another.”

The flight attendants were glad for that, having heard about the shitstorm in security. When they went through with the meals, the attendant who was pushing the cart accidentally bumped Remy’s seat. It was a good thing she did, as he would have taken a swing at anyone shaking him. All three SEALs were tense and, thus, on a hair-trigger.

Remy sat up, leaned into the aisle and poked Dean on the shoulder. “Wakie, wakie, darlin’.”

Dean swatted at him. “Wha!”

“Food.” Remy jiggled Cosmo, who was seated in front of him. “Scorpion. Food.”

“Mmm. Up.” 

They got their seats upright, although how you could call a four inch difference from upright a recline was anyone’s guess. Trays were passed out and the cart moved on.

The food was typical airline fare, Tony had once said it was just military chow with an attitude, but they shoveled it down as being better than nothing.

They landed at O’Hare, changed planes and took off for Denver. They were given their rucks and told that they could either carry them on or re-check them. They carried them on after going through them with a fine tooth comb. Nothing had been removed, for which they were grateful.

The flight from O’Hare to Denver was also uneventful. There wasn’t an in-flight meal, but the snack cart made regular rounds. 

Denver was easy. They deplaned and caught a chopper that was headed for Helena. From Helena they took another chopper to Glacier. Hungry Horse was the town closest to the resort/retreat that the group was headed for. The owner of the landing strip they were supposed to land at lived there. 

Hungry Horse Ranger District was gearing up for a search when they got there. They found George Martin and told him who they were.

“Well, so. One of my missing people is a SEAL?”

Remy nodded. “Our CO. Another is a Marine. You get jackets yet?”

“I think so. I’ve been busy getting people in and geared up. So, instead of me taking time to read, just tell me.”

So Remy told George everything he knew about the group. He ended, “I’d figure they’ll stick with the plane for long enough to make sure everyone’s settled, not injured, that sort of thing. But I only give that about three days, max, then they’ll be on the move. I can pilot a chopper, as can Dean. Give us an observer and we’ll head out on their flight path. Maybe see something. The Navy will have three more choppers out here by dawn tomorrow. Air Force has offered help too. Command told them to hold off for now.”

.

Tony stopped Gibbs in a small clearing. “Jet, we should stop here.” He nodded at the stream they could just see through the trees. “Good fishing, maybe. Clean water, plenty of wood. And Bright is beginning to limp.”

“Okay,” Gibbs nodded. “You’re right. Go check on the fishing. Tim! Jimmy! Start setting up camp. Abby, wood. Flower, see what’s wrong with Bright’s foot.”

Flower sighed. “And who set you up as boss?”

Gibbs shrugged. “You got any idea?” She shook her head. “Didn’t think so. This is the way it’s going to go. Tony and I have worked together for years. We’re both military. Tim and Jimmy are my subordinates at NCIS. So is Abby. I’m in command, because I am. Tony will take over if anything happens to me. Now, cooperate, be a good team member, and stop rocking the damn boat. See what’s wrong with your friend while we set up camp and see about getting something to eat that’ll stretch our MRE’s. Move it.”

Abby stopped Gibbs. “Gibbs? I think I saw some cattails back a bit. I could gather some. Sorta like asparagus. Steam it, or eat it raw. I like it with carrots and onions.”

“Go. Be careful. If you hear anything in the woods come right back here.”

Bright offered. “I’ve heard that bears are afraid of humans and only attack because they’re startled or you get between the mother and her cubs. I have some bear bells in my stuff. Would you like them, Abby?”

Abby gave him a disgusted look. Gibbs just snorted and said, “You know how to tell the difference between a grizzly bear and a black bear?”

“Um ... no, I don’t believe I do.”

Gibbs rolled his eyes. “The black bear is the one running away. The grizzly is the one blowing the whistle and ringin’ the bells. And most of the bears in this area are grizzlies.” He patted Abby’s shoulder. “Be careful. Keep your eyes open. Go.”

Abby trotted off to gather cattails. She was proud of the fact that she could prepare the edible parts of the plant. Of which there were plenty. It is easier to note the parts that aren’t edible rather than the ones that are. She was pleased to see that the stand was right where she remembered. She used her knife to cut down some and washed it carefully in the stream.

Tony eyed the stream carefully; sometimes you could find fish by their shadows on the bed. This time, he was lucky enough to do exactly that. He retreated quietly, he was going to need some help.

“Jet. Come fishing with me.”

Gibbs looked up and grinned. “Trout?”

“I see some, but I’ll need a catcher.” Tony smirked. Gibbs could tickle fish out from under a bank but he just could not manage to wade in quietly enough that he didn’t scare fish off. Tony, on the other hand, could.

They stood on the bank for a few moments watching the fish drift around the pool. “Okay, I’m not gettin’ my clothes wet. They’ll take forever to dry.” Tony stripped down to his shorts. He took his time easing into the pool, then slowly waded out. He eased his hands down on either side of a fish then slowly closed in on it. He was hoping not to scare the other fish when he caught this one. He got hold of it, causing it to flop wildly, but he got it out of the water and tossed it to Gibbs who smacked its head on the ground.

Gibbs had used his knife to dig a hole, keeping one eye on Tony while he did. He used the same knife to gut the trout. He also cut its head off; the offal was all buried in the hole.

They managed three more fish before the rest got a clue and swam off for parts unknown. 

Four fish for seven people didn’t work out to a lot of fish per person. Gibbs wasn’t prepared to argue over who would get what so he said, “Know anything about North American wild foods?” 

Tony nodded. “Took my first survival training at RIMA. This is a good time of year for foraging. No nuts, but lots of other things.”

Gibbs, who also had taken his first training on North American foraging, pointed, “Abby wanted carrots to go with her cattails. And ... look, ramps.”

Tony grinned. “They’re good for stuffing the fish too.”

They returned to the camp with four big fish, a bundle of wild carrots, ramps, and some greens.

Abby had also gone back out, this time dragging Jimmy with her. They came back to camp with a collection of wild greens and some garlic grass and wild cress.

Jimmy was very proud of himself for recognizing Jerusalem Artichoke, which wasn’t from Israel and not actually an artichoke. It was a potato-like root that was a good potato substitute; they could also be eaten raw. 

The camp was set up much as it had been the night before, Abby, Bright, and Flower in one Diamond Fly and the other four men sharing the other one. Bright offered to stand a watch but was turned down. Gibbs, Tony, and Tim didn’t trust him not to fall asleep. Jimmy was content to go along with them.

Flower proved her worth that night. “I see we’ve got some very nice greens. I’ll sort them and get some started.”

Abby eyed the greens. “Why sort them?”

“Some of them will be way too bitter if we don’t boil them twice. Others, if you boil them twice they'll go to mush. I’ll chop some of this wild garlic to put in the second boil, if you like. And ... ooo, Jerusalem Artichoke. If we start an ash pile now, it’ll be ready to roast them ... and the fish. Unless you have a pot for the fish too.”

Tony made a face. “I’d rather not boil such a nice mess of fish.”

“Oh, no, that’d be awful. I thought we could pile ashes around and on top of the pot and bake them. Put some of that garlic on them and some carrots.” She smiled happily. “I do love mixed greens with carrots and cattail shoots. Yum.” She settled to help Abby deal with the cattails and other goodies.

It wasn’t long before wonderful smells were drifting around the clearing. Abby called everyone in to eat. Gibbs portioned everything out onto the plates, making sure that everyone got their fair share. Abby had saved out some of the Jerusalem Artichokes which Flower had cut into the thinnest slices she could. Everyone got a nice plate of mixed greens and carrots, garnished with flaky fish and crunchy Jerusalem Artichoke slices. The cattail shoots had been gently steamed and put on the side. No one was surprised when Abby also sprinkled each serving with a bit of lemon juice from a plastic single-serve pouch.

“I only had three packages of lemon so I hope it was enough.” Abby settled to eat her food. “Looks so good. Thank you, everyone.”

Bright also thanked everyone. Including Flower. “Flower, my dear, I didn’t know you could cook over an open fire. Quite the accomplishment.”

Flower shook her head. “I can’t. Abby did that. I read some theory ages ago, but I like foraged foods. I buy them from a local and cook them in my kitchen.”

Abby grinned. “My Granddaddy made sure I could at least fry a fish. And I do like to bar-b-que. So between us, we managed.”

Tony nodded. “Abby is a great cook. Gumbo, jambalaya, hush puppies. All sorts of good stuff.”

Gibbs agreed, “She made mufaletta and brought it in to work just last month. Nearly had to kill Remy to get some.”

Tony laughed. “It was ugly. I had to bop Dean to keep him off my share.”

Abby laughed. “Threatened to take him on the mats. Next time I’ll make twice as much.”

Jimmy shrugged. “Better make that three times. I had to wrestle Cos for a share. Asshole.”

Abby laughed. “That was truly awesome. But, if you want Italian, Tony’s your man. Seriously, lasagna to die for.”

Tony stood up and bowed. “Thank you. Thankyouverymuch.”

Gibbs snorted. “Damn it, DiNozzo.”

Flower felt that they were doing very well in the sharing department, so she decided to clear up her question. “Mr ... Lt ...”

Bright, who had the same question, interrupted her. “What she’s trying to do is ask, why do they call you AJ?”

Tony sighed, “Well, that’s because I’m actually named Anthony Dominic DiNozzo, Jr. My Father always called me Junior. I hate it. Junior is not a name, it’s a generational identifier. Anthony and Tony were real popular in my generation so, at RIMA, there were six or seven Anthonys or Tonys in a class. We all wound up going by our initials to keep us separate. Only there was an Anthony Davis and an Anthony Dowel in my class. Davis was called by his middle name and wound up JD, Dowel was AD. But that left me with AD as well. And I refused to be called ADD, as someone suggested. I punched him. ADD, seriously? So I wound up AJ.”

Tim, who remembered a phone conversation with Tony’s father said, “And Senior always says, you need to meet the real Anthony DiNozzo. Like AJ’s plastic?” He shook his head. “His father is as serious an asshole as the Admiral is.”

Bright looked puzzled then asked, “What admiral?”

“My father. And we’re changing the subject, as neither Tony nor I are comfortable with this one.” Tim poked the fire with a stick.

Flower showed that she really was good at her job, when she thought first instead of following the company line. “Well, that’s too bad. I’m sorry if we made any of you uncomfortable. So, tell me about something fun that you do.”

Gibbs thought for a moment then shrugged, “I’m building a boat.”

Flower’s mouth turned into a small O. “Really? Oh, how wonderful. A real boat? Or a model?”

Tony snickered, then said, “It’s a real boat. In his basement. How he’s going to get it out is a real question.”

Abby shrugged easily. “It’s magic. He just scowls at it and it shrinks down. He picks it up and carries it up the steps. The second it hits water ... whammo ... boat.”

Gibbs laughed at that. “As good an explanation as any.”

Bright nodded. “In other words, it’s a secret. So ... I love classical music and go to concerts as often as I can. I’ve seen Horowitz. Wonderful.”

Tony sighed. “I’d love to have heard him, but I wasn’t old enough, according to my parents. But I did see Liberace. He was a lot better than people give him credit for.”

Tim agreed, “Yeah he was, but he was such a showman that people noticed that more than how good he was.”

Abby nodded. “But Tony’s better. Seriously, he could do a concert. How many pieces do you know by heart?”

Tony thought about that then said, “I don’t know about a concert but I know about ... well ... 48 of Bach's Preludes and Fugues from the Well-Tempered Clavier ... that’s all of them. About that number of Mozart pieces, ones that I like. And I can sight-read almost anything. If you’re talking about jazz, I know about half of Scott Joplin and some Thelonious Monk. A bit of Beethoven and Schubert. I know other stuff, but I can’t think of it right off the top of my head.”

Everyone was awed by that admission. Tim shook his head. “How long would it take you to play your whole repertoire?”

Tony blinked. “I have no idea. About a week. I review five or six pieces every day. I also practice sight reading on new stuff once a week. I’m not as good as I could be, but, frankly, I’m a hell of a lot better than some I’ve heard. And I mean people my age, with my level of education in music, not kids.”

Bright looked delighted. “Some day would you play for me?”

Tony nodded easily. “Sure. When we get out of this mess.”

Tim chuckled. “Do you really think we’ll fail?”

Gibbs snorted. “No. We’ll all make it. I’m no Corporal Payne, but I could manage any of you except DiNozzo.” He pointed at Tony. “Your long ass I’d have to drag.”

They moved on around the circle to learn that Tim’s favorite pastime was computer games. Jimmy’s was gardening. Abby loved clubbing, which everyone but the coaches knew. Tony added, “Clubbing and dragging my weary ass out on a school night so she doesn’t have to go alone.”

Abby nodded. “True. And you go. But I’m gonna stop that, as I’ve noticed more and more that you just sit with a grumpy look on your face.”

Flower announced, “I love knitting. I’d have brought something with me but I don’t consider it appropriate. It does tend to distract from the thrust ... er ... point ...” She sighed; everyone else just snickered. “Objective of our workshops.” She scowled at Bright, who was snickering along with everyone else. “You are being obnoxiously male.”

“I am. It’s just that we do tend to obfuscate the obvious with some sort of jargon. My turn?” Everyone paid attention. “I read. Words in a row. Anything and everything. And I paint. I’m not good but I do love my journals. I also left my things behind as I do feel that the point of a workshop is paying attention to each other. Teamwork and sensitivity.” He stretched, revealing a bit of a paunch. “But ... frankly ... someone got their signals mixed. You don’t need teamwork seminars. And I get the feeling that the sensitivity requirement is because of your obnoxious habit of insulting each other.” He smiled. 

No one took offense at that. Tony just shrugged. “Have to be really good friends before you can call someone a bitch without getting slugged in the head.”

Flower thought about that then said, “I don’t understand at all.”

Gibbs scratched the back of his neck. “Well, it does distract from the fact that some rag-head is tryin’ to blow your ass off.”

Flower tutted. “That’s not a nice thing to call someone. Perhaps you could come up with something a bit more ...”

Tony frowned then barked, “PC? Don’t think so. Jihadist also comes to mind.”

Bright interjected. “I do believe most Muslims would be offended.”

Gibbs nodded. “And they’d be right. But when some jack-off is trying to kill you, PC can go fuck itself.”

Flower thought about that then asked, “So you don’t think of all Muslims as ... er ... what you said.”

Tony shook his head, in the gathering darkness they could barely see him. “No. And most Muslims are like most Christians, Buddhists, Hindu ... whatever. All they want is to be left in peace to practice their religion and live their lives. Them, I’ve got no problems with. But anyone trying to kill me is fair game for any and all names I can think up.”

Bright exchanged a speaking look with Flower. “I see. And again your Human Resources people have put their holier-than-thou foot in it. And I can see exactly why most agents don’t want anything to do with them. I’ll definitely be addressing this in my report.”

They shared a few more stories, then went to bed. 

.

The night was a repeat of the last one, as every night would be.

Morning was better that expected. There was no dew so they weren’t wet, and dry wood was just lying on the ground.

Abby built up the fire then said, “What about oatmeal for breakfast? I’ve got some ...” she began to rummage in her ruck. “Ha! Here it is. It’s instant, just add water, but I’ve got enough for us all to have a big bowl. If you don’t want it, tell me now because the made-up doesn’t keep well. But the packages will last nearly forever.”

Tony said no, as did Gibbs. Jimmy and Tim accepted the offer happily. Bright admitted that anything hot would be nice. 

While it was early June, as high in the mountains as they were, the nights were decidedly chilly. Both Abby and Flower used a blanket as a shawl.

Gibbs pulled Tony aside and asked, “You keep a sketch kit in your ruck. Think it would be a good idea to offer it to Bright?”

“I would, except I took it out for this trip because I figured I wouldn’t have time. I put in a couple of extra MRE’s instead.” Tony shrugged a bit apologetically.

“Well, too bad.” Gibbs ambled off with Tony at his side. “Let’s find breakfast.”

Tony agreed. “Yeah, I saw some stuff we could eat. There’s some mushrooms that taste like nuts and I’m not gonna turn down frog.”

Gibbs grinned. “Me neither. But ... I think MRE's for lunch today. Short break. That is, if we go at all.” His smile turned into a frown. “Bright was limping. Need to find out what that was about. Flower messed with him last night, but ... we need to check it out ourselves.”

When they returned Abby jumped Gibbs, “Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs. There’s some oatmeal left, do you want it? There’s enough for both you and Tony to have some. I forgot how much it swells. Do you?”

Gibbs and Tony both wanted. Tony remarked that there was no sense in wasting food, even if it did resemble wallpaper paste. 

When they were done with the oatmeal Tony motioned to Jimmy. “Doc, I need you to take a look at Bright and figure out what’s wrong with him.”

Jimmy nodded. “I intended to do that before we headed out.” He got his bag and called Bright. “I’m going to take a look at your foot. Whatever it is, we need to deal now, before you can’t walk at all.”

Bright just sat down and pulled off his sock. “It doesn’t hurt now. I noticed a hot spot last night so I put some mint jell on it.”

Jimmy nodded. “That’s good.” He examined the foot carefully. “Well, I don’t see anything. You put your boots on last night?”

“No. I left them off. And that hot spot is gone.” Bright wriggled his toes then pulled his sock back on.

Jimmy frowned for a moment then said. “Let me see your boot.”

Bright handed it over. Jimmy ran his hand into it then sighed. “Well, you can’t wear them. The liner wrinkled. You’ll never get it to stay in place. Believe me, I know. Do you have anything else you can wear?”

Bright nodded. “I know you’re not supposed to do this, but I’ve got a pair of sandals that I like. I brought them because I figured we’d take walks. They’ll do, if I’m careful.”

Tony nodded. “Okay, good. We’re not in that much of a hurry with civilians in the group.”

Flower blinked. “I’m sure ...” at a sharp look from Bright she changed tacks. “Well, is that intended as an insult?”

Gibbs looked at her then managed not to snap her head off when he said, “Jimmy, Tim, AJ, and I can cover 12 miles in just under three hours with a full battlefield ruck. Unloaded, we can keep that up for about six hours. Loaded, four. That includes Jimmy under a full battlefield medic’s pack. So, with you two, we’re down to about a third of the speed we could manage otherwise.”

Abby took exception to that and said indignantly, “Hey! I can keep up.” She grinned. “For about four hours bareback.”

Flower asked, “What if someone went ahead at a faster pace?”

Tony rubbed his face, his unshaven beard was beginning to itch. “If it was just my group and we had the usual complement of military electronics, I’d say go for it. But, with no way to keep in touch with each other, I’m extremely reluctant to split up. Gibbs?”

“No splitting up. We all go. I don’t like the idea of anyone being alone up here. And I’m not about to leave this group alone.” Gibbs scowled at the thought.

Tim said, “I’m competent to stay with them,” he waved a hand at Bright, Flower, and Abby. “And Jimmy’s just as competent.” 

Bright thought for a second then announced, “I know why. We’re a group comprised of ... well, we’re a committee, for lack of a better description. And we’ll tend to want to vote on everything. That would work ... if we were lost in a big city. But out here? We’re just ... not capable. And I’m ashamed to say ... we would fall into the habits of a lifetime and argue with every single decision made. It’s part of being a psychologist, we want to analyze everything.”

Tony nodded. “And doing anything like this by committee is a sure recipe for disaster of the fatal kind. The military has a chain of command for a reason. So does NCIS. We don’t have time to vote on anything, ever. If I tell Tim to jump, he needs to just jump and hope it’s high enough. In a non-combat situation it’s a good idea to explain as you go. But sometimes that leads to arguing when it’s inappropriate. It’s a balancing act.”

Bright put his sandals on while everyone else got their stuff together. They policed the camp and headed out.

Tony frankly told Bright that he wanted him near the front where both he and Gibbs could keep an eye on him. No one wanted Bright toughing it out and winding up unable to travel.

.

 

Chapter eight

Ranger Martin gathered his people in the high-school auditorium. It was large enough and convenient to most of the volunteers.

“Okay, people, settle down.” He looked around; everyone was settling down quickly. He nodded to the sheriff’s deputy in charge of the visuals. The first picture up was of Gibbs. He explained who he was then went on to show and identify the rest of the party. He also had a copy of the flight plan and a picture of the plane.

He divided the flight path into ‘quadrants’ and assigned a group to each one. He also assigned chopper and observers to the area. It was sometimes easier to find things from the air than the ground. The ground pounders were told to go home until they were called. Listen to the radio as the regular broadcasts would be interrupted to call them out again. They’d also use a phone tree, if that was what would work better.

Remy was teamed with a commercial pilot who regularly volunteered his chopper for rescue work. Dean was teamed with an army loan, and Cosmo actually pulled a Navy borrow. 

They took off together and flew in formation to the first search area where Remy’s pilot tipped off and began their search. Remy knew that the other two would do the same thing at their assigned areas. He got out his map and started looking. 

As they flew over the area, Remy used a dry marker to mark out the squares as they searched them. They started on the flight path going from one end to the other then flew across it, cutting back and forth looking for any sign of a plane.

It was nearly noon when the pilot said, “We need to head back. We’re hitting four hours. We’ll eat and come back out.”

“Acknowledged.” Remy kept his eyes on the ground as they headed back

They landed with the other two choppers which were already back. The two military choppers were faster and so had covered their assigned areas a bit quicker. Instructions were firm, they were only to search for four hours before coming back for a rest. 

Remy greeted Dean and Cosmo. They headed for the Sheriff’s office but were cut off by a lady who called, “Go over to Daisy’s Place. She always gives a free meal to searchers.” They hesitated, looking back over their shoulders at the pilots, who were doing shut-down procedures. “I’ll tell them when they’re done fueling. You boys go on.” The lady made chicken-shooing gestures, so they trotted off to find Daisy’s Place.

It wasn’t that hard to find. After all, what else would a place with a giant daisy painted on the side and another in the front window be called. It was a nice, clean diner with sturdy tables. They were spaced nearly four feet apart, and the chairs were comfortable.

They settled at a table for four in the corner nearest the kitchen door. The smells were appetizing.

The waitress came with menus and asked, “You fellas here searching for that plane?”

Dean looked up from the paper place mat he was reading. “We are. They’re all our friends.”

Stella made a clicking sound with her tongue. “That’s just awful. I’m sure we’ll find them, though. If you find a wreck, we’ll all be out there, horseback and foot, looking.”  
She nodded once. “Now, you get free up to ten dollars, after that, you pay the difference. Coffee is bottomless cup. So ... I’ll go and get your coffee and water. Take your time.”

Remy eyed the menu. After a moment he put it down. “Man, I not hongry.”

Dean thumped him on the leg. “Gone all Cajun. Eat.”

Cosmo tapped his menu on the table, absently. “I know how you feel. But, when AJ finds out that you didn’t eat right, he’ll take you on the mats and beat your ass.”

“Never lettin’ him go any farther than the head without me. Every damn time we get separated, somethin’ bad happen.” Remy made a conscious effort to control his accent and succeeded for the most part.

Cosmo looked up when Stella came over with an irritated expression on her face. “Ready?”

“Um ...” he realized why she was irritated. “Yes, but I’m sorry about the menu. If I want your attention I tend to call your name. I’m ... worried about our friends. Burger, medium well. Fries. Coffee. Got pie?” Remy’s eager expression made her forgive him at once. 

“We do.” She craned her neck to see what was in the pie safe. “Apple, cherry, mixed berry, peach. And cold pie ... key lime, lemon meringue, and ... looks like banana cream.” She wrote down Remy’s request for apple pie, and what he wanted on his burger.

Cosmo and Dean also ordered burgers, fries, coffee and pie. Stella finished her ticket and turned it in to the kitchen. She brought around a refill on the coffee then walked off to get her next table.

It wasn’t long before the food was out; the grill man used an old diner trick of keeping burgers on the grill. They’d either be hamburgers or chopped steak, depending on how done they got. 

As it turned out, the burgers were perfect, juicy and tender. It was just that they didn’t have that much of an appetite. But they ate everything on their plates, tried to enjoy their pie. And swilled down a gallon of coffee.

Remy tossed some money on the table for Stella, called, “Miss Stella, we’re ready to settle up,” then went to the register.

Stella came to the register glowering at her ticket. “Ok, pie is two fifty a slice that’s seven fifty plus tax.” she gave them a hesitant look then rang them up. Dean handed her a ten and said to keep the change. “Thank you. Um ... we usually have a prayer meeting for anyone lost. We’re planning it at the Lost Souls Tabernacle. It’s non-denominational and fairly big. Service starts at six. You come, if you like.”

Dean smiled a little bit. “Thanks, that’s really nice of you.”

They all headed back to their respective choppers. They were back in the air within half an hour. 

.

Tony settled beside Gibbs to eat. Abby and Flower had been busy on their hike. Every step had them looking for something edible. Tim had found some mushrooms and, after consultation with both ladies, had gathered them. Gibbs had noticed some water cress and stripped off his boots and socks to wade out and get some. 

Now they were breaking for lunch. “Jet. You notice anything? Something not there?”

Gibbs nodded. “No planes. No choppers. No nothing. We should at least have heard something in the distance. I get the unhappy feeling that we’re nowhere near where we should be. I don’t like it.”

“I don’t like it either. Damn it. And no orienting tools. No maps. You got a compass?”

Gibbs shook his head. “No. It’s in the pommel of my knife. The survival one that I left at home. Last fucking damn time I leave on any sort of fucking trip without a compass and a proper knife.”

Tony sighed. “Me too. I left most of my orienting gear at home too. In favor of a book. So. We need to find out what we’ve got and try harder to find out where the fucking hell we really are. I’m pretty sure, if Tim had his computer, we’d be able to recognize some mountains by profile.”

After they were done eating, Gibbs dropped the bad news. “Ok, here’s the shit. We should be hearing choppers, planes, something. Someone has to be looking for us by now. But neither Tony nor I have heard anything.”

Tim nodded. “I noticed too. I didn’t say anything as I didn’t want to freak anyone out. I figured you’d say something when the time was right.”

Gibbs nodded. “Well, we need to find out if anyone has a compass? A good map?” he looked at the shaking heads with disgust. Not at them; just at the situation. “Tim. Backup?”

“No. Sorry, gave it up. Didn’t want to take a chance of losing my job over a computer. I gave up my backup, phone, and tablet. Wish I’d been a bit less of a goody-two-shoes and kept something. Although I don’t have G4, as there’s so many WiFi hot spots in DC. Might not have done as much good as we hoped. But ... wish in one hand and shit in the other.”

Abby said, “Eww! But, yeah. I’ve got nothing.”

Jimmy shook his head. “Only compass I had was on my phone.”

Tony nodded. “I was going to rely on the map in my phone. So, basically, we’re screwed. Crashed plane, no idea where we are, no one’s searching the right area.”

Gibbs snarled, “Damn it, I was right, we all rely on electronic shit way too much. And I’m as much to blame as anyone. I kept an orienteering kit in my pack for years. Gave it up for this damn trip because I figured I wouldn’t need it. Now ... I do. Damn it!” he threw his hands up then settled down to brood. He’d deny sulking with his last breath.

Tony turned to Tim. “I know you looked at maps of the general area. Any ideas?”

Tim frowned. “I’ve been looking at things but I really didn’t look at the profile of the area. I didn’t see the need as we were supposed to stay in a resort.” He rubbed both hands over his face and head, ruffling his short Ivy-league into wild spikes. “What a Charlie Foxtrot. Last time I ever let anyone take my phone. Ever.”

Tony patted Tim on the shoulder. “So. Ideas?”

“Keep moving downhill. We’ll run into some sign of civilization, sooner or later. I’m just glad you and Gibbs have extensive training and we’ve got a lot of gear.” He grinned at Tony.

Tony replied, “Yeah, this does beat the hell outta bein’ dumped in the middle of Canada, north of everything, naked. And I do mean bare balls.” He shuddered. “Gah!”

Abby frowned. “But ... but ... naked-naked? Really?”

Gibbs overheard and said, “Yeah. Snatched me right out of a shower. Believe me, air dry at seven thousand feet is no fun.”

They gathered to check equipment before starting out again. Abby offered to exchange packs with Flower, feeling that it wasn’t fair for her to have to struggle with the makeshift pack.

Flower shook her head. “No, thank you for the offer. I’ve got the straps set for me and I don’t really want to have to untie everything and remake it. But I appreciate the offer.”

They headed out again, walking as fast as Gibbs thought Bright and Flower could keep up with. They looked and listened for any sight or sound that would tell them where they were.

Tim was pissed that he hadn’t had the insight to study the mountains so that he might recognize a landmark. He knew that it was easy to triangulate a position using landmarks. But you had to recognize something to start with.

Flower was brooding over her foolishness in forgetting over fifteen thousand dollars' worth of equipment. She was regretting agreeing with the theory that all electronic devices needed to be removed as distractions. She had heard an alternate theory that participants should be held accountable to the group for unnecessary interruptions. A thought came to her so she just went with it.

“Excuse me, people. Could I ask a question and have everyone give their feedback?”

A general ‘sure’ had her asking, “If I hadn’t agreed with the theory that I should take your things to avoid distractions, how would you control the habit of fiddling with phones and such while you’re supposed to be paying attention to the workshop?”

Everyone thought about that. 

Abby offered, “Well, you could call everyone’s attention to the fact that they don’t have the self-control to keep their hands off.”

Tim said, “You could answer it for them and inform whoever it is that keeps calling that they’re supposed to be in a work environment. Embarrass them.” 

Tony laughed. “You really think that’d work with me?” Tim chuckled. “I’d have ‘em doing pushups for not turning it off the second they walked in the door. If it’s really important, they should call the front desk. Anything not life and death, leave a fucking message.”

Gibbs gave what Flower considered the best advice. “Make ‘em leave their phones on a table by the door. Label everything so they get the right phone back. If someone gets more than three calls in a certain number of minutes, let ‘em answer. If it’s not important, have them deal with whoever it is. Even call their superior in the company for help if it’s someone in the company.”

Flower nodded. “I like that one. It puts temptation out of their hands but makes it possible to deal with the culprit promptly. It’s not the attendees' fault that someone keeps calling them. Put the onus where it belongs.”

Bright agreed. “I think that’s a great solution. Thank you ... Gibbs.”

They finished the day a bit late as the terrain they were hiking through didn’t give them a good camping place.

Gibbs finally said, “It’s getting too close to dusk to risk going any farther. Abby, wood. Flower, look around for something edible. Bright, go with her. Tim, Jimmy, AJ, and I’ll set up the flies and start a fire.”

They all set to work and it wasn’t long before the flies were set up and ground covers, blue pads, and sleeping bags arranged. 

Tonight, it seemed, was going to be what Tony called a dry day, a day that no one found anything worth eating. They had MRE’s, instead of anything fresh.

Gibbs checked provisions and ordered, “Everyone eat an MRE tonight.” He looked at Flower and Bright. “If you don’t like something in your meal, either trade it, or save it. Especially condiments.”

Jimmy took the opportunity to look at Bright’s foot. “Well, it looks a lot better. Wearing sandals doesn’t seem to be causing any problems. If you start getting hot spots let me know at once.” He turned to look at the rest of the group. “Any one. And I mean it. We cannot stop. If you get blisters you’ll have to keep going, risking all sorts of problems.”

Gibbs agreed around a mouthful of pasta and sauce. “Yeah, you sure can. One of my teammates in ... um ... most of it’s actually classified. Anyway, he tried to tough it out. Wound up having to carry the som’bitch miles because he fucked up his feet and couldn’t walk.”

Flower blinked. “Oh, my. Bright? You hear that? You take care of your feet.”

Bright poked at his food with a doubtful expression. “Okay. I will. I really don’t think Mr. ... er ... Gibbs could actually carry me.”

Tony moaned. “Oh, man, you did not just doubt the Gunny. Please.”

Bright shrugged. “I weigh one eighty.”

Tony snorted. “He can and has carried me. I weigh right at two ten.”

Abby yelped. “Tony! That’s ... you ... wow. Where do you carry it?”

“Shoulders and chest.” He slapped his flat belly then went back to his food.

They continued to talk about this and that, throwing their trash into the fire when they were done eating and giving the unused parts to Abby to put in her pack.

Abby yawned and stretched. “I don’t know about you but I’m beat. Bed for me. Night.” She ambled off to the fly to crawl into her sleeping bag. She was soon snoring.

Tim snickered a bit. “I swear, when she really gets going she sounds like a stevedore with asthma. Love her to bits but ...” just then Abby let out a loud snort and woke up. “And there you are.”

Tony sighed. “That’s nothing. Ziva was worse. Deviated septum. Sounded like a cross between an eighteen wheeler, a lion, and a steam whistle.”

Gibbs laughed. “The first time I heard her, she was asleep on the floor under her desk. Scared the shit out of me.”

Tim nodded. “And she always tried to blame it on someone else. Told me it was Tony.” He snorted. “Yeah, right. A SEAL that snores. Pull the other one.”

Bright nodded. “I’d think that would make falling asleep very dangerous on a ... an op?” He wasn’t sure what to call it.

Tony nodded. “Yeah, sleeping on an op is dangerous enough without worrying about snoring. I do snore when I sleep on my back, but I don’t like that position that much so I don’t sleep that way often.”

Flower snickered. “I don’t snore, but my sister does. She could wake a dead man. It’s awful.”

Abby laughed. “Get her adenoids checked. That’s one of the main causes of snoring. There’s a bunch of others but that’s the first one to check.”

Jimmy nodded. “Dr. Mallard figured out that a man died from strangulation by looking at his adenoids.”

Tony frowned. “I thought a broken hyoid bone was one.”

“It is. But strangulation with a soft device ... like a rolled up piece of cloth ... or something similar might provide enough pressure without breaking it. In this case, everyone was convinced he’d had a stroke. His brother-in-law strangled him with one of those tieback cords. Like for curtains.” Suddenly Jimmy started snickering.

Bright demanded. “What’s so funny about that?”

Jimmy shook his head. “Not that. Just ... um ...” he looked at the rest of the NCIS team. “You remember that session where we took off for a case. Shepherd said she’d take notes?”

Tim snickered. “I do. The woman leading the thing was getting ready to blow a fuse when you said you handled naked, dead people.” The whole group dissolved into laugher, Abby's machine gun giggle echoed around the clearing. Even Gibbs laughed heartily.

Flower puffed up, just like the other woman had. “Naked, dead? What? .... that’s ... I’m...”

Jimmy held up a hand and Flower subsided. She’d learned her lesson. “Okay. Let’s go at this a little differently this time. She said it was never acceptable to handle dead people, especially if they’re naked. But ... what’s my job again?”

Flower frowned as she thought. “Um ... morgue assistant?”

“Yes. Now, that being said... what do you think my job actually is?” Jimmy watched as Flower finally understood.

“Oh! Moving bodies for the ... er ... Dr Ducky? And assisting with the autopsy.”

Jimmy grinned, “And I’d really, really like to know how I’m supposed to do that with a fully clothed corpse.” He shrugged.”We’re very careful to be as respectful as possible. I even make sure to wash the body properly after we’re done. You don’t want to see the way some places deliver a body to the funeral home. Disgraceful, disrespectful, just ... ought to be a law. Seriously.” He frowned.

Gibbs agreed. “I’ve seen them brought in with blood and dirt all over. And ... um ...” He thought about how to say what he wanted without squicking anyone.

Tim shuddered. “No, not another word. We all know exactly what you’re saying and it is disgraceful. Serious lack of respect.”

Flower sighed. “And I see why so many people don’t like sensitivity training. In Jimmy’s case, handling naked, dead people is part of his job. Acceptable for his profession. Not acceptable in other cases. But we haven’t been taught the skill of listening to reasons for behaviors, just that some are unacceptable any time for any reason. I realize now that that’s a fallacy.” 

Bright nodded. “But ... my understanding was that the team was indulging in unacceptable touching.”

Abby flushed. “I’m a hugger. I never thought that it was ... bad. But ... HR is a bunch of straight-laced, blue-stockinged, lemon-sucking killjoys. They ... well ... they don’t listen.”

Tony disagreed. “Abs, we’ve been telling you for years that you need to take it easy. Hugs are good, but not when they interfere with things like breathing.”

Tim nodded. “Yeah, and you did break AJ’s ribs.”

Bright took that up. Now, how in the world could tiny, little Abby break big, strong AJ’s ribs? “That’s ... odd.”

Jimmy explained that. “Not if he’s been in a chopper crash, has cracked ribs and a collarbone that’s ... compromised. And has lung problems from Y. pestis. She hugged him, broke his collarbone and shoved a rib into his lung. Scared the shit out of all of us.”

Abby sniffled sadly. “I didn’t mean to hurt him. I was just so glad to see him. So, HR had a fit, not that I blame them ... that time. And now we’re out here, in the middle of nowhere, crashed and lost and it’s all my fault and I’m really, really sorry.”

Flower beat everyone to the punch, as it were. “No, Abby. Stop that right now. It’s not all your fault. It might be your fault we had to organize a workshop. I might even question that, as unacceptable touching doesn’t, as far as I’m concerned, include hugging. If the huggee doesn’t find it bothersome, that is. So.” She paused to think. “I portion out the blame this way. Abby, a bit, because of the hugging thing. HR, a great deal more for making a mountain out of a molehill. The pilot, not sure how much, but we did run out of fuel and crash, and we’re not where we should be. So, as the saying goes, Abby, get over yourself.” She smiled, happy with her analysis of the situation.

Gibbs nodded. “Sounds about right to me. So, Abs, can that shit.”

Tony got up and went to sit beside Abby. He put an arm around her. “Abs, Flower, wonder of wonders, is right. It really isn’t your fault. It’s your fault we had to take this stupid seminar. But that’s the extent of it. The rest can all be put right in Flower’s lap, or the pilot's. We don’t have any gadgets because of Flower, but that wouldn’t have mattered in the least if we hadn’t crashed. That’s directly on the pilot and his company. So. Smile for me?”

Abby gave him a somewhat watery smile. 

Flower sighed, “I’m never going to live that one down, am I?”

Tim shrugged. “Accept your mistakes, deal and move on. We’re not dead, nor in any real danger of dying. We’re lost, in summer, in mountains; we have a good idea of the general direction to go, and we’re pretty sure people are looking for us, just not in the right place. Someone is sure to figure out something. And we still have the watches. Tony, does someone else need to activate theirs yet?”

Tony eyed his watch. The second hand was still moving in tiny jerks; when it stopped moving, the battery was dead. “Nope, still got juice. Just don’t know how they’re going to find a signal. No satellite coverage here. They’ll have to borrow time on a commercial one and that’s going to be a problem as the frequency we’re broadcasting on is ... dedicated. I’m not sure that a commercial satellite is capable of tuning to it.”

Tim frowned. “Probably can. If they can get permission. If the SEAL CenCom can get permission to tell them what it is. Complicated doesn’t begin to cover it.”

.

Sam Brown was frustrated. His techs all said the same thing, they needed a satellite in a different orbit. They didn’t have one that could reach the proper orbit. They wanted to use a commercial one but needed permissions above their pay grade to do it. He was waiting on hold with Director Vance. And his coffee was empty.

Director Vance finally got on the other end of the line. “Vance. Sorry it took me so long to get on the line.”

“Belt here. I’m trying to set up a link for our tech people. We need a civilian satellite to piggyback a signal off. If we can get one, we can locate our people by the GPS transponder in someone’s watch. Even turn it on remotely if we have to. Need a little help there.”

Vance chuckled a bit. “And that’s why I took so long to get on the phone. I was making arrangements with ... a man I know ... to get access. I got it, but my IT guy just admitted that the only person we have that is capable of doing that job is ... McGee.”

Belt grumbled. “Oh, great. And he’s one of the people we’re looking for. But, if you give me the codes and whatnot, I’ve got a guy who says he can do it. I actually believe him, he’s one of the best. I overheard Digimon and Bits talking. I understood, ‘well, look, if you...’ After that? Not a chance. Can you send the information to this email?” He gave Bits' email to Vance.

“I can. It’ll be there in a minute. Thanks for doing this.” 

Belt sighed. “AJ DiNozzo is one of our best assets. Gibbs is ... a secondary consideration but he’s also considered an asset, even if he is RED. We’ll be right on this. I’ll keep you informed.” he cut the connection without saying good-bye.

.

Tony checked his watch again, the second hand was still ticking around, marking off the seconds until the battery went dead. When it did, they’d activate Abby’s watch next.

But they were going to keep walking. He was sure they’d hit something soon. Logging road, hiking trail, something. They just had to keep trying.

Tim also checked his watch. “Tony. Nearly noon. Could we stop to hunt? I know there’s rabbits around here. I’ve seen a couple. Maybe you could ... I donno ... throw a knife at it or something?”

Gibbs brightened. “You’ve got some throwers. Please tell me you brought some.”

Tony grimaced. “No. I left them to keep the weight down and, frankly, I was worried about keeping them in a carry-on on a civilian carrier. But I’ve got some snares. They were in a side pocket.”

Jimmy cleared his throat, then admitted. “I’ve got six throwers. They’re a new, non-reactive alloy. I completely forgot about them, Mom gave them to me and I just stuffed them into a pocket. How did they did go through the check point?” He shrugged, then rummaged a moment. “Here.” He offered a small plastic box.

Tony took it and picked out one of the knives. It looked like a Gil Hibben thrower, but it was black ceramic. “I’m not too sure about this. Ceramic knives have a bad habit of breaking from impact.” He hefted it. “Modeled after the GenX Pro. Good balance. I’ll take them and see what I can do.”

Gibbs came over to look at the rainbow-colored knives. “Not ceramic. Some sort of alloy with titanium. Only titanium will give that sort of color. Electro tempering.” He ambled off with a handful of wire. The rabbit snares.

Gibbs was an accomplished trapper, having learned from one of his father’s friends when he was a kid. He’d also had reenforcement while in survival training. As he walked quietly through the woods, he looked for signs of rabbits. He saw some scat and a few prints, so he set a trap. Farther on he saw more signs, so he set another. All in all, he set four of the six snares. He hoped for a couple. He’d be pleased with one.

Meanwhile, Tony was actually stalking anything small enough to kill with a knife. He knew there were some rabbits, maybe a quail or two. He’d be satisfied with any sort of meat.

Abby nodded to Flower. “What do you want to do? We could get more cattails, or just look for something.”

Jimmy pointed. “I think there’s some artichokes there. If you dig them, I’ll be sure to make a nice ash pit to bake them in.”

Flower nodded. “Okay. And Bright could go get water. We’ll pick up wood as we hunt for anything edible.”

Abby and Flower began to stack wood in small piles as they hunted for greens, ripe berries, or anything else to eat. “Isn’t this nice. Real teamwork.” Abby nodded to herself. “I never have figured out how management gets ‘team’ out of a bunch of people who have to work in the same room. There’s so much more to it than that.”

Tim busied himself setting up the flies. He and Jimmy had settled into a routine: he’d start laying the flies out on the ground, while Jimmy started a fire. Then, while the fire was burning to coals, they’d both get the flies turned into tents. Sometimes they had to cut poles, last night for instance; other nights they could use a sapling by just bending it over and tying it in place. Today they were setting the flies up by bending one sapling over and tying it to another, then draping the canvas over them. Tying down the base and corners finished the job. 

They left it to each person to put out their sleeping bags unless they’d dropped them on the ground. No one wanted to rummage someone else’s ruck.

After setting up camp and making sure the rucks were under cover, Jimmy and Tim returned to the fire. Bright was there, seated on a rock.

“I put the water on to heat. What do we have left?” Bright was conserving his teabags, although he’d told Abby that he had them. He didn’t want to be accused of hoarding supplies.

Jimmy thought. “I went through stuff with Abby while we were hiking. Not physically, as that’d be a problem while walking, but in our heads. She’s got a lot of tea, coffee, hot chocolate, creamer, salt, pepper and a little bit of other condiments like mustard, ketchup and mayo. Even some tartar sauce.”

Tim chuckled. “She actually likes MRE’s, she’s been saving that stuff for ... years, I guess. And she has bunches of t-paper, wet wipes, plastic flatware. I swear she could supply a picnic for fifty.”

Just then Abby and Flower came back with their plunder. “There. Ramps, chokes, greens, and cattails.”

Just then, Tony trotted back into the camp. He dropped two rabbits at Jimmy’s feet. “There you are. All skinned and clean. Stew?”

Jimmy nodded. “I can do that.”

Gibbs walked in a few moments later with three rabbits. “AJ, how many did you get?”

“Two. And Abby and Flower found a lot of greens and ramps...” Tony pointed to the piles of food. “We’re doing real good in the foraging.”

Tony eyed the pile of rabbits. “Abby, you want me to cut them up?”

Abby shook her head. “I can do it. I just need a knife.” She snickered as Tony, Tim, Gibbs, and Jimmy all offered her a knife on the palm of their hand. “Thank you, kind sirs.” She dimpled at them then took Gibbs' knife, as she said it looked most like the one to cut the bones. 

Bright blinked, “Ok, stupid question. How the blank did you manage to get those through inspection?”

Gibbs patted his badge. “Professional courtesy. And our sidearms.”

Flower eyed the displayed 9mm then said, “And why, just for my own satisfaction, haven’t you been shooting something to eat?”

Gibbs decided that it was a valid question, but had no idea how to answer it without confusing the gun-ignorant Flower.

Abby took over. “Well, that’s because NCIS standard issue is a Sig-Saur 9mm Parabellum. That’s a medium range defensive round. You could kill a rabbit with it. If you’re very good, which Gibbs is. But ... nothing bigger unless you’re right on top of it. If all four carriers have the standard one in the pipe, full clip; two extra, that’s ...fifteen rounds in a flush fit, NCIS reg. If you use extended mags as secondary, that’s another fifteen to twenty rounds, depending on the extension. Gibbs?”

Gibbs pulled a magazine from his belt pouch to display the double extended 20 rounds. “Two twenty. That’s fifty-five rounds. So, between Tony’s three mags, Tim’s two and Jimmy’s ... How many?”

Jimmy flushed. “Standard onboard and three extended. That’s seventy five rounds.”

 

Abby grimaced. “That’s two hundred and twenty four rounds between the four of them. But ... I don’t like the waste from shooting small game in anything but the head and shooting anything the size of a deer you’d find around here ... well, you’d better be really, really good, because, if you don’t hit it in a sweet spot, you’ll lose it. And that’s just cruel. They run away and die in pain somewhere out in the ... well, you waste ammo and still don’t eat.”

Tony agreed but said, “Things get bad ... I want the ammo for ... wolves or coyotes that decide we look like prey. Don’t fancy giving a wolf a Marine smile. I really don’t want to get that close. They’re not just big dogs.”

Gibbs smirked, “No, that’d be me.”

This started an explanation of ‘big, damn dog’ and ‘if you can’t run with the big dogs, stay on the porch.’ that continued until Abby had the rabbits cut up, in the pot and seasoned with wild garlic and ramps, salt and pepper, and a single packet of sugar.

There was also a pot of the ever present greens. No one complained; it was much better than nothing and ensured a balanced diet.

Then Bright asked that question that many civilians ask that’s just not something you should do.

“Gunny, have you ever killed anyone?” He was shocked to see Gibbs freeze. He just turned into stone. Tony did too. Tim, Jimmy and Abby gave him looks of such shock he quickly realize that he’d done the unthinkable.

Abby, ever the peacemaker, actually lost her temper. “How could you ask such a stupid, heartless, tactless idiot question? That’s ... that’s almost like asking ... I don’t know any question quite as dumb. If we had a corner, I’d make you stand in it. Seriously?”

Tim scowled into his cup, the coffee was holding out, thanks to finding all those packets of pre-measured stuff.

Gibbs' jaw worked as he tried to calm himself. He got up and stormed off into the trees. Tony tossed the grounds-filled dregs of his coffee into the fire and followed him, his expression dark.

Bright sighed. “Well, I really put my foot in that one. How do I make it up?”

Tim eyed him with considerable disfavor but took pity on him anyway. “Just keep your damn yap shut for awhile. Don’t ask fuckin’ questions, don’t say anything you don’t need to. Don’t say sorry, it’s a sign of weakness.”

Abby nodded. “Just play least in sight for awhile. He’ll get over it. Both of them will. But, seriously, what the hell were you thinking. Scout Sniper? SEAL? You make a habit of saying stupid stuff?” She busied herself taking the lid off the stew pot and stirring the contents. She checked the greens and stirred them too. 

Flower was eyeing her partner with disgust too. “Really, Bright. I, also, would like to know what you were thinking. What a horrible question to ask.”

Bright sighed. “I was actually thinking that, if they had, and they weren’t getting some sort of help, I could recommend someone to see back in DC. But, well, I really didn’t think things through very well. And saying you’re sorry, when you really mean it, isn’t a sign of weakness, it’s a sign of strength. However, saying sorry just to end an argument or other unpleasant situation is.” He got up and walked away in the opposite direction from Gibbs and Tony. He needed to clear his head.

.

Tony didn’t bother to try to follow Gibbs, he was too pissed to do anything but wander, trying to calm down. What the hell was that man thinking? Or was he? Tony decided it didn’t really matter, he had to be calm. Losing his head wasn’t the way to deal. 

He decided to just walk it off, enjoy the cool night air and quiet of the mountain night. 

A crack in the bushes alerted him that Gibbs was there.

“AJ.” Gibbs stepped out of the underbrush.

“Yeah. You okay?” Tony met him in the middle of the small clearing.

“Yeah, just ... freakin’ shocked. Ya know?” Gibbs paced Tony as they headed back for camp.

“Me too. What a damn stupid question. I’m not gonna be able to fuckin’ talk to him for at least a day.” Tony rubbed his face.

“Me neither. He’ll just have to deal.”

They were back at the camp by now. Tony looked around. “Where’s Bright? Please do not tell me he wandered off and we have to fuckin’ go look for ‘im.”

Bright’s voice came from the tent. “I’m here, writing some notes.” He popped out of the tent and walked over to the fire. “I just want to apologize for being so completely tactless. I am sorry. I ... went about what I wanted to say the wrong way and I’m very sorry. I wanted to be sure that, if you needed someone to talk to, you had them.”

Abby jumped in again. “And that’s not in your pay grade. It’s not your business. That’s another thing no one likes about your sort. Not that you’re a bad person in your own right, but you’re so holier-than-thou. You mix in where it’s not your job to. MYOB, dude.” 

Tony nodded, “Regs say we talk to someone, if only to tell them we’re ok. I’ve got a counselor, so does Gibbs. Leave it.”

Bright sighed. He was definitely persona non grata right now. “I’ll make a note.”

Jimmy poked at the stew. “This is done. We better eat before it gets burnt.”

Gibbs took over as paterfamilias and served the food. He had taken over serving, just as he had taken over cooking at GHQ, to keep the arguments down to a minimum. It was just habit, and, since no one objected, he kept the job.

They ate silently, each person occupied with their own thoughts.

.

 

Chapter nine

 

The Dispatcher for Aeropax, the small company that owned the crashed plane, was going over the flight plan again. She was trying to figure out what had happened. Any clue to where the plane was and why it wasn’t where it was supposed to be would be good.

The search had been called off last night. The choppers had covered the flight path several times, from every imaginable direction and found nothing. Everyone was beginning to wonder what was going on. Planes didn’t just disappear, Amelia Earhart to the contrary. So she was reading everything she could find.

Finally she had a thought which had her tapping on the president’s door. “Excuse me, sir. I was wondering if it might not be a good idea to have someone else go over our records. They might see something that I’m not. Perhaps that bunch of SEAL people?”

The president, who was very worried about his public image, never mind the fact that he’d lost a plane full of heroes, agreed at once. This led to Remy, Dean, and Cosmo arriving by chopper. They were now sitting in a conference room, going over the flight plan.

Cosmo eyed the page in his hand then said, “We got the pilot’s jacket? Medical records?”

Dean shuffled through some files. “Nope. I’ll get them.” He got up and left.

He found the president’s secretary at her desk. 

“Excuse me. I need the pilot’s jacket and medical records. Do you have them?”

The secretary shook her head. “No. We keep all that stuff in Personnel. I’ll call down and tell the girl to let you have anything you want. His medical records ... that’s a bit problematical. They’re private, so we don’t even have them. You’d have to call his doctor, that number will be in his records. I’d say, if you call and explain, he’ll tell you something. Take the stairs down three landings, door, left, left, right. Don’t bother to knock; Carley wears headphones. Half the time it’s music, the other half dictation.” She turned to pick up her phone and Dean trotted out.

Since he moved so fast, the girl in Personnel was just hanging up the phone when he walked in.

“Hey. I’m here for the captain’s jacket. And man, this is stupid but I don’t even know his name, only info we’ve found so far is the flight number. Captain of the flight from Helena to Glacier. The one that’s missing.”

The girl looked up from a clip board and said, absently, “Captain Frank Wilks. As to his jacket ... better check with lost and found, it’s not here.” 

Dean’s mouth fell open in shock. He stammered, “’Scuse me? It’s where? And why the hell would all his records be in lost and found? What the fuck?”

Carley blinked at the broad-shouldered man for a moment then said, “Okay, can we start again? I’m Carley. What can I do for you?”

Dean took a deep breath. He hated dealing with civilians in a situation like this. “I’m Dean Cole. I’m here with Remiel Devereaux and Cosmo Richter to see if we can find a clue as to where your missing plane is. The one with all our friends on it. I need the captain's ... jacket. Not the wearing type, the paper one. And any other information you have on the flight.”

Carley nodded. “You want ...” she frowned at air for a moment, thinking, “Oh! Oh! Yes, you want his personnel records, flight logs and communication logs. I’ve got them on my computer. Give me a sec and I’ll bring them up. I can put them up on the computer in any conference room in the building. As to medical, his doctor might send them over ...” she grinned, “If I ask really nicely and offer him an apple pie. I’ll see what I can do.” She reached for her phone then turned, “I’m really sorry about your friends. I hope you can find them and they’re okay.” She dialed the phone with one hand, holding the handset between one hunched shoulder and her ear. She typed quickly with the other, punched a couple of F keys then said, “I sent the files to Conference room three, that’s where you are, right?” 

Dean nodded but before he could say anything she was speaking into the phone. He just left and headed for the conference room.

When he got there Cosmo had downloaded and was already going over the jacket. 

Dean took the flight logs while Remy took the com logs.

When they were done they gathered to share.

Remy shrugged tiredly. “Nothing unusual in the com logs. Just chatter and bullshit.”

Dean shook his head. “Not much. He was called in for the flight. The regular pilot called in sick.”

Remy frowned, something was ‘knocking at his brain’ as AJ would have said. “What about his jacket. Cos?”

“Nothing much here either. He was a senior pilot. There’s some sort of blue flu thing going around, so the co-pilot and attendant didn’t show. As the flight was so short, they took off anyway. I don’t like that one bit. Should never take off without a full complement. Ever. This company is so screwed. If they’re ... well, I’m seein’ who can sue them and what for.” Cosmo frowned. “Something ... something. Really? Seriously.”

Remy picked up the jacket, eyed the cover sheet and said, “Medical? But something else. I’ll figure it out.”

The phone on the side desk rang and Remy just picked it up. “Devereaux.” He listened then said, “Doctor, I don’t know. All I’m doing is grasping at straws. No idea what his medical might have to do with anything. We’ve got a missing civilian plane with seven pax and one crew, your patient Frank Wilks as pilot. We’ve searched the flight path that was registered and found nothing. I’m hoping that ...” he stopped to listen then said, “Doctor, give me a sec to put this on speaker.”

There was a click, then a voice said, “Mr. Wilks is in fair health. I have been trying to get him to cut back, retire even. He has high blood pressure, and his heart isn’t the best. Congestive heart failure. I shouldn’t be telling you this but ... Frank has been my patient ... and friend for over thirty years. I’ll call Judge Nic Lemmons, he’ll send me a court order to cover my ass. He’ll probably call you. Anything else?”

Remy frowned as he said, “No, thanks. Don’t know what good that’ll do us but, if he needs to call ...” he gave his personal phone number then cut the connection.

“Okay, guy had a wonky ticker. What can we make of that?” Dean frowned at the records he was studying. “He usually took the Helena- Kootenai run. The whole crew called in sick, so he was called in.” He frowned at the screen for a moment, sure he was looking at the solution. 

Cosmo ran a hand over his newly shorn high and tight. “Fuck. It’d be easy if we had Gibbs here. He’d see it in a second. If he didn’t, AJ would. Even Tim. So ... what do we have?” he frowned at the screen.

Dean thought. “Ok. Let’s try going through what the pilot would do.”

They talked their way through the startup procedures and takeoff. Then Cosmo banged his hand down on the table. “Damn it! There it is!”

Dean jumped out of his skin. “What! What is ... where?”

Remy had also seen. “Cos, give him a sec. He’ll see it. I think.” 

Dean frowned. “Okay ... Oh. My. God. He set the autopilot to Kootenai! We’ve been searching the wrong flight path. Miles out of the way.”

Remy checked the flight plan for the last flight to Kootenai then found a map. “Okay. I can see ... but ... Dean how much fuel on board?”

Dean eyed the fuel log. “About an hour. What the hell? This bunch of fly-by-night jackwads. Management has cut every corner they can. Why? Not a fuckin’ clue. But ... if the pilot set the autopilot wrong, wouldn’t he have noticed fairly quickly?”

“No idea. But I’m callin’ George. Set a new search parameter and get them started again.”

The call was easily made and George agreed that it was a distinct possibility that the autopilot had been set by habit

The SEALs headed for their transport back to Hungry Horse.

.

George Martin made the calls he needed to. The searchers took up the job with renewed hope. If the pilot had set the autopilot for Kootenai, they had a new flight path to search. He got out his maps and started planning.

A call was forwarded to him from Helena. An Apache group had planned a practice search-and-rescue exercise, and they would be happy to move the search area to the flight path and downhill from there. He happily took them up on the offer. As he said before he hung up, “The more the merrier.” 

The choppers and small-plane pilots gathered at the school again. Ranger Martin explained the logic behind the renewed search, finally saying, “We all know how much it hurts to drop a search but, in this case it was just waiting for new information. We have that information, so let’s get out there and find these people.”

The leader of the Air Force team stopped to speak to Remy. “I heard that your guy has some sort of yelper?”

“He does, but ... hang on a sec.” Remy fiddled with his phone. “Of the people on that plane, four have yelpers. Here’s the frequencies for all of them. We tried to get a satellite moved but couldn’t, and couldn’t get permission to use a commercial one. And not from our side. It was all on them. Can’t get in position, can’t use those frequencies, all kinds of shit. But ...” He fiddled again and the Captain’s phone bleeped.

“Okay, got ‘em. Don’t know that they’ll do any good, but we’ll sure keep our ears open. Standard yelp?”

“Yeah. Thanks, man. I gotta go, my pilot’s waving at me.” They saluted each other then trotted off to their respective rides and took off.

.

The search continued most of the day with planes and choppers coming and going, refueling, eating, and so on.

They all stayed out until they were running on fumes, came back to eat and get coffee, and went back out again. Just as they had done on the last search. George insisted that they come in every four hours, regardless of where they were. He was well aware that the searchers would exhaust themselves, but that wouldn’t do much good. Tired people missed too much.

They searched the flight plan, this time with a special eye for flashes of light. Remy had remembered that Abby, at least, had a mirror.

They stopped at sundown. It didn’t do any good to risk everyone’s life searching in the dark.

.

Abby settled by the fire; it had been another day of walking, foraging and talking. She was sure that Flower and Bright were doing their sensitivity and team-building thing with them, but more as observers than actual trainers. It didn’t seem to bother the others so she let it go.

She was right, as at that moment Bright and Flower were discussing that very thing.

“Bright, dear, I think we need to have a bit of a discussion with NCIS:HR about sensitivity to environmental effects. Most of the people that they have assigned to mandatory sensitivity training really needed it, but Abby did not. Nor did the rest of the team. She made a mistake, but she’s so obviously sorry and now waits for a visual signal that hugs are appropriate. I really feel that NCIS’s parameters are outdated and, to be frank, a bit Victorian. I realize that, with the mindset of some people there, a more stringent attitude toward inappropriate touching is necessary, but, really, the woman that told Dr. Palmer that touching dead bodies is not acceptable must have been demented.”

Bright agreed. “I agree completely. We need to start some sort of new protocol for determining what needs to be addressed and what just needs more explanation. That’s the primary objection to the whole process: no way to explain outside of going through the process and taking the required workshop.”

“Yes, they don’t need the mark on their records that having to take an unnecessary workshop would leave.”

They finished their notes, then returned to the camp. They had just walked down to a small stream and sat down on a log. Not that unusual a thing in this group.

Tony greeted them with, “Well, come on. Food’s done. Jet’s dishing up.”

Gibbs handed around plates. When they had started eating, he remarked, “Saw some sign. Not exactly sure what it means, but it’s human. Not tire tracks, more like a tank. So ... no idea. AJ?”

Tony had just shoveled a fork full of Abby’s delicious cooking― rabbit again ―so he just shrugged.

Tim offered, “Obviously not a tank up here, so what else has tracks?”

Abby offered, “Well, all sorts of construction machinery. Crawlers, cranes ... that sort of thing. Maybe it’s a logging road?”

Gibbs considered that. “Could be. It’s old though. Stuff’s beginning to grow up again.”

Tim stared into the closing darkness. “Um ... might follow it?”

Tony nodded. “Might. It’s got to lead somewhere. If we go downhill we’re sure to find something. Uphill? Might just find a landing pad for a chopper they use to take logs out.”

Bright tentatively offered, “I think we should follow it downhill. We’ve been going that way since we crashed. I have no desire to wind up going in circles.”

Abby nodded. “He’s right.” She scowled at him but gave it up after a second.

Bright grimaced at her, she assumed it was apologetic; she was right.

Gibbs nodded at Abby. “You’re right. Backing and filling won’t get us anywhere. We need to stick to the plan I left in the note on the crash. So, good night's sleep, up early, and follow the logging road wannabe.”

Tony nodded. “Right. But I think we ought to start Abby’s watch, mine’s been on long enough that the battery is going soon. I don’t want an interruption in the signal. I’m sure they’re trying to find some way to track it.”

Flower gave up, her curiosity was killing her. She knew she wasn’t supposed to ask this sort of question, it was, as they said, above her pay grade. “Okay, question: how do you know that?”

Gibbs thought about that. “No man is left behind. Ever. SEALs are searching for us, but their dedicated satellites are all offshore and can’t be moved just for us. Commercial satellites are ... problematical for a number of reasons.”

Tim nodded. “I know we’re supposed to stay up-beat but ... there’s not going to be a satellite. However, do not panic, it won’t be that hard to search for the yelp with any military aircraft. Once they get permission and codes and frequencies. And the frequencies these watches broadcast on are dedicated, so they’ll know it’s us. Also, they will be looking for the yelp from the black boxes. They’re in one piece, we left them with the plane so that we can find the captain. All in all, I ... get the feeling that they’re looking in the wrong place but they’ll figure it out soon, if they haven’t already. Then, they’ll be all over us like white on rice.”

Jimmy just ate. He’d already figured out that they were going in the right direction; he’d discussed his ideas with Gibbs and Tony. Tim had added his bit and they’d agreed that they wouldn’t tell the rest of the group that they were probably going to have to rescue themselves, as the searchers were looking in the wrong place and probably wouldn’t be able to figure out where they actually were. The three men were wrong but they couldn’t know that Remy, Dean and Cosmo had absorbed more knowledge than expected. Just from working cold cases for the ‘new eye’.

Abby wasn’t worried about things. She knew that Gibbs, Tony, Tim, and Jimmy would keep them safe. She did worry about eating well. They couldn’t afford to cut rations too much; they needed their strength. That was why she was hoarding a small cache of power bars and energy drink powder. If they ran out of everything else she had enough for them to keep going for about two days before that was gone. Then, well, they’d just better be to civilization before then.

Bright and Flower shared a look; finally Bright said, “Is there anything we can do? I, personally feel like a passenger in this. If there’s anything truly useful that I can do, please let me do it.”

Flower just nodded her head.

Tony rubbed his face. “Okay. Thank you. Right now, you’re doing all you know how to and that’s good enough. And you haven’t argued with anything, caused trouble by going off on your own, or done anything to endanger any of us. So, it’s all good.”

Gibbs kept his mouth shut, he still wasn’t happy with Bright and had decided not to say anything to the man until he could be as polite as he ever was.

They ate the food that Bright, Flower, and Abby had gathered, thanked them, and went to bed. Bright was a bit astonished that men like Tony and Gibbs would go to bed so early. He mentioned something about it and Abby just said, “They get by on four to five hours, if they have to, but they get as much sleep as they can otherwise. Also, they’re still standing watch, so the guys who don’t have the shift sleep.” She cuddled down in her bag and went to sleep, secure in the knowledge that nothing would get to her.

Bright remembered asking if they wanted him to take a turn watching the fire. He now realized that they were doing more than just keeping the fire going. They were watching for wolves and such as well. He shuddered, he really didn’t want to wake up to find some wild animal nibbling on his feet. 

When morning came, Abby fixed the leftovers from the last meal for breakfast, handing out crackers to pile the greens on. “That’s the last of the crackers unless you get some in an MRE. Enjoy.”

They ate quietly; it seemed that, as the days went on, they talked less and less. There just wasn’t that much to say outside the day-to-day communications about fires, food, and camp concerns. No one worried too much about it; they were all reaching that zone where they were just short of exhausted, but wired at the same time. Gibbs and Tony seemed less affected than the rest. Tim and Jimmy were hanging in there fairly well, just in a sort of overdrive where they existed just outside normalcy, but short of stupid. Abby was still her bright self, but the lines around her eyes told their tale. She was hanging on, but slowly slipping into the tired zone.

Bright and Flower were both reaching that zombie-like state that meant they were using up their last resources.

Gibbs looked around then said, “We need to take a day to rest. Tony and I will hunt. Abby, Bright, see if you can find some of those greens, but take it easy. Tim, Jimmy, cattails and artichokes, but you two go easy too.” Bright just sighed. Gibbs eyed him for a second then looked at Flower. “You’re both running on empty, so’s Abby. Tim, Jimmy, AJ and I are ... used to taking it hard and mean. We may wind up separating, now that we’ve found a road. But I don’t like leaving anyone behind. We’ll consider that tomorrow. Anyone?”

No one had any objections, comments, or much of anything to say. They all just started putting the camp in order for another day’s stay.

Everyone just fell into bed. Gibbs settled in for his watch; he’d wake Tony in two hours, then Tony would wake Tim, and Tim would, in his turn, wake Jimmy. Gibbs was proud of the fact that neither Tim nor Jimmy was beginning to flag. 

He leaned back to watch the stars; the fire blocked out some of them, but the pollution from the fire wasn’t nearly that of all the sources in DC. The sky was clear as crystal, and the air smelled like air. If they weren’t in such desperate straits with the civs he’d be a happy man. 

Tony drifted out of the darkness. “Jet.” He waited for Gibbs to look at him. “Talk a bit?”

Gibbs nodded. “Sit. What’s on your mind?” He offered Tony some of the instant coffee Abby had provided and thought, ‘Thank God for Abby and her saving ways.’

Tony took the coffee then sat next to Gibbs. “I’m thinkin’ the two of us are going to have to make a run for it.”

“Leave Tim and Jimmy here?”

Tony nodded. “Yeah, you tell everyone that Tim’s in charge. Abby’ll stand behind him if you say so.”

“Jimmy?” Gibbs smirked over his cup.

“Pffft! Jimmy’ll have his six without question.” 

“AJ, we need to think seriously about this. Bright and Flower are wearing out. So is Abby. Tim and Jimmy can protect them, especially if we fortify them somewhere with resources. Water nearby, they keep all the food. We can make it somewhere in 12 to 14 hours, you know that.”

Tony nodded, finished his coffee and said, “We’ll put it on the fire tomorrow morning and see what happens.” After a grunt and nod from Gibbs he ambled off to his rack to sleep for the hour and a half until his watch.

.

They all wound up greeting the dawn; a pack of wolves had started howling at moonrise and scared Bright, Flower, and Abby awake. Abby was reassured the second Gibbs had remarked laconically, “Wolves.” Bright had yelped loudly, while Flower had screamed then burst into tears.

Abby had grumbled, crawled out of her sleeping bag, and snarled, “Shut up. They don’t care about us. They’re just singing to the moon. If you scream and cry, you’ll just piss them off or make them curious.” She scrabbled in her pack, pulled out a black lace thing she called a hanky and handed it to Flower. “Here, blow your nose and wipe your eyes, in any order you please, then calm down and stop that noise.”

Flower did as she was told then sniffled, “I’m sorry. I’ve never been in a situation like this and I’m scared.”

Bright patted her shoulder, “I am too, my dear. I’m sure everyone else is as well.”

Abby snorted. “Seriously? Not. Gibbs and Tony won’t let anything happen to any of us. SEAL? Scout Sniper? Relax.”

Tim said in an offended tone. “And what are Jimmy and I?”

Gibbs voice came out of the darkness, “Backup.”

Tim cracked up. When he was done snickering he announced, “Damn good backup too.”

Tony snorted. “Jerk.”

Jimmy retorted, “Asshole.”

Gibbs ordered, “Gather around the fire. We’re all up and likely to stay up.”

Bright nodded. “We are. I don’t think asking our neighbors to keep it down would do much good.”

There was some laughter over that comment while they scrambled around to get comfortable. 

Bright decided to try to get the last exercise checked off and said, “As we’ve been traveling, Flower and I have been conducting the exercises required of us as workshop coaches. I think we should just be frank and say there’s only one left and I’d like to check it off and be done with it. Anyone?”

Gibbs just frowned into the fire, everyone had been aware of what the coaches were doing but it hadn’t interfered with what they needed to do so no one had objected. Now, he was wondering what the last thing was.

Everyone thought about that for a moment then Abby just said, “Why don’t you tell us about it then we’ll decide?”

“Very well. It’s a form of truth or dare. Only everyone tells what scares them the most and everyone else reassures them that it’ll never happen. It’s really a lot of fun. I’ll even start.” Bright glanced around the group. They all looked very uncomfortable but he pushed on. “So ... I’m afraid of falling off a tall building.”

Abby immediately scoffed at that. “Bright? Seriously? The chances are so slim that you could get into someplace that you could fall off of ... well, you’d have to be really suicidal to even get there. No way.”

Bright smiled at her. “Good. Anyone else?”

Tim frowned, “I’m with Abby. There’s no way you could accidentally fall. You’d have to have so many coincidences in a row ... The mathematical probabilities are nil.”

Flower nodded happily, this was going very well.

Tony agreed with Tim. “Digimon could actually figure out the probabilities. It’s just never gonna happen. You could manage to get into a position to jump, change your mind and fall.”

They went all around the circle, each person offering some reason that Bright’s fear was impossible. 

When they were done Flower offered her fear. “I’m afraid of ... spiders. I know it’s just a bug, but ... Oh, My Goodness, Ick.”

Abby again led. “Well, most spiders are just as afraid of you as you are of them. Then there’s the fact that you can squish them barefooted. And may I add, Ick to that? But ... some spiders, you’re smart to be ... not afraid of, but cautious with. Some are poisonous. Black widow ... brown recluse. A few others. Learn to recognize them and you’re safe.”

Gibbs just shrugged and offered, “Fly swatter. Rolled up newspaper. Bug spray.”

That more or less put the end to that one as Tim and Jimmy agreed with Gibbs. Jimmy did offer, “Most poisonous spiders will only make you sick. So ... well, I could go through all the things you’re supposed to do if you get bitten but ... ask me later if you’re really interested.”

Flower, who’d heard this several times, just nodded.

Abby admitted that her biggest fear was making a mistake with evidence. Everyone had to agree that this was a valid fear, even Bright and Flower. 

Tim said his fear was of not being seen. 

Flower blinked. “I can see you, you’re right there.”

Tim sighed. “No, like that episode of Buffy where the girl disappeared because people dismissed her. Didn’t see her.”

Gibbs frowned. “Don’t get the reference, but you’re not the invisible agent. I see you, in all senses of the word. I know where you are when you’re in the building and most times when you’re not. You’ll never be unnoticed by me.”

Tim flushed with pleasure at that.

Tony nodded. “I’ve seen that ep. And no, you’ll never fade away. I’ll always have your six. Swear.”

Jimmy just whacked him on the shoulder. “Doofus.”

Gibbs was up next, he glanced around at the group. “I don’t usually open up this much ... I’m afraid of losing people I love to violence. That’s why I’m such a bastard to my people. I want them to be ready for anything, and if that means I have to crack the whip ... I crack it hard.”

Tony sighed, “That’s my biggest fear too.”

This left everyone at a loss, because it was in the nature of the beast that LEO’s got killed in the line of duty, as did SEALs. 

Bright bit his lip. “I’m afraid that there’s no way to refute that fear. It’s totally valid. But I see another reason that your HR department needs a good shakeup. I’ll make some notes before we start out.”

Flower stretched, “I think that concludes our workshop and may I say, I’ve never had one quite so ... original. And I fervently hope never to have another.”

There was a bit of laugher over that.

Gibbs eyed the coffee and decided that it was just as well to move out. “AJ? Wheels up in thirty.”

Tony nodded. “Might as well, we’ve eaten and coffeed.”

They broke camp and headed out, still hiking downhill on the overgrown logging road.

After about an hour Flower grumbled, “Downhill, you say? So why are we climbing again?”

Gibbs started to answer but paused as he heard something. Tony froze. Then both men drew their sidearms so fast that Abby squeaked. Jimmy and Tim followed a second later. They didn’t know what was up but if Tony and Gibbs had their weapons out, so would they.

Gibbs barked, “Incoming! Hit the dirt!”

Abby flopped down, gracelessly, dragging her pack over her head and shoulders as she did so. Flower and Bright both just stood with their mouths agape as an Apache helicopter popped over the crest of the ridge, right into their faces.

The Apache hovered for a moment then the external speakers crackled, and a voice said, “I’d really appreciate it if you wouldn’t shoot holes in my baby, LtCmd. DiNozzo.”

Tony laughed, a quick flash of teeth. “Okay.”

“We’ll be putting down about half a click down the path. Meet you there.”

They followed the chopper to its landing site, where the pilot was speaking on the radio. He turned, grinned and said, “If I’d known you all were so twitchy, I’da hailed ya first. So ... who’s who?”

Gibbs just nodded, “Gibbs.” He pointed, “DiNozzo, Palmer, Sciuto, McGee, Fields, Sommers.” each person nodded as they were introduced, except Abby, who waved cheerfully.

“I’m Captain Johns.” He grinned. “So ... weather is moving in quick. There’s a four-man with only a pilot on the way. It’s the best we can do. But I’ve got some supplies I can leave.” He frowned up at the sky, which was darkening rapidly.

Flower displayed her ignorance again. “But, why can’t someone ride in those sidecars?” Captain Johns looked blank so Flower pointed. “Ma’am, those are weapons pods. No way can a person get into one. Wouldn’t want to ride in one anyway. Wind would blow your ... hat off.”

Flower sighed. “Well, shoot.”

Tony snickered. “Doubt you’d want him to do that. Those babies are Hughes M230 Chain Guns, 30mm. They’ll wake you up in a bad way.”

Captain Johns chuckled, Gibbs frankly laughed. Then the captain looked over his shoulder at his co-pilot. “Gotta go. Need to clear the way for the pick-up. Here.” He shoved a small go-bag into Tony’s hands, then trotted to his chopper, climbed into his seat, and they took off.

The Apache was immediately replaced with a civilian four-seater. It was a Hummingbird kit chopper, very nice, in its way. But the payload was only nine hundred and fifty pounds. 

This pilot was a man of about forty who didn’t even shut down. He got out, ducked under the rotors and said, “Jeremy Winslow. I’m really sorry. I can only take three people. If the others can hole up somewhere nearby, someone will be up as soon as the weather breaks. Really sorry.”

Tony glanced at Gibbs then jerked his head. Gibbs nodded. “Okay, here’s the deal. You got a map? Compass?” The pilot nodded. “If you give them to us, Jimmy, Tim, Tony, and I can get down the mountain ourselves. We just need to know where the hell we’re going.”

Tony hadn’t even bothered to say anything. He was busy rummaging Abby’s pack for her food. 

Abby didn’t even bother to argue; she wasn’t happy and her scowl let everyone know that, but she didn’t say anything. She just helped Tony get all her food into his pack, gave him her sleeping bag and ground cover, then shouldered her pack and headed for the Hummingbird.

Bright argued a bit but shut up when Tony snarled at him, “We can hump it. SEAL, Marine. Well trained. Shut the fuck up and get in the damn chopper before the weather closes in. Go.” He also picked up his pack and went to the chopper.

Flower showed good sense for once. She just hugged herself, mumbled, “Don’t care if you are trained, it doesn’t seem right,” then followed Abby and Bright.

Captain Winslow blinked at Gibbs. “Don’t seem too upset about having to wait.”

Gibbs smirked at him. “I’m a retired Marine. Tony’s an active Navy SEAL. Tim and Jimmy are NCIS. We’re going to hump it, now that we know where we’re going and the snails are off the group. Take care of them for me. We’ll see you at ...?” he waited for the man to offer information.

While he was doing that Tony was rummaging the bag that Captain Johns had given them. He grinned. “Boss, Nav equipment, map, compass. Directions. We’re good to go.”

Captain Winslow just said, “All this area belongs to a logging company, sustained harvest. There’s active camps all over the lower part. You’re headed for Atlas Logging Co. Base Camp Number Four. It’s about ten-fifteen miles down that road you were following, but there’s a bit of a jog in the trail. If you take the logical fork, you’ll be headed back up the mountain. Take the fork that goes uphill. It’s all marked out on the map that every search chopper has. There’s also, as Lt. Cmdr DiNozzo has discovered, a GPS locater and a compass. Written directions, too.” He glared at the sky. “I’ve got to go. That Hummingbird of mine does not like heavy weather.” He started off, then turned back. “Here. Take my cell. You won’t get much in the way of reception, unless you climb a tree. But I’ll feel better.” And with that, he ran to his chopper and took off in less than two minutes.

The four men watched as the chopper took off, tilted, and flew down the gully and disappeared.

Gibbs just picked up his pack, settled it, buckled up the belly band and said, “Ready?”

Tony said, “Let’s put wheels under this bitch.”

Tim and Jimmy both said, “Ooo-rah!” and they were off, trotting down the trail at that ground eating lope that Gibbs had taught them.

.

 

Chapter ten

 

Abby stared at the sky; there was a front moving in which meant cold and rain. It was summer but that only meant it wouldn’t freeze, she hoped. 

“Um ... excuse me?” Flower eyed the pilot.

Abby shook her head. “He can’t hear you unless you put the headphones on, and I’d advise against that. If we have questions, it’s better to ask at the SAR command center.

Flower nodded. She and Bright were seated in the back. Abby had called ‘shotgun’ the second she’d hit the door.

Abby put on the head phones and asked, “ETA?”

“Ten minutes or so. They really going to be okay?” Jeremy knew that the men were trained, but he was worried that they’d underestimate the mountains; even experienced men did that.

Abby replied, “Yeah. Gibbs doesn’t take anything for granted. It’s one of his rules. And he’s had real survival training. Tony too. Tim and Jimmy have had standard Boy Scout-type stuff, but they’ll follow Gibbs and Tony. They’ll be fine. Bet they show up in ... how many miles is it again?”

“About ten or fifteen. The trail turns back on itself so much I had a hard time measuring. If they cut straight down the mountainside they can cut off about five miles. But I hope they don’t ... good way to break a leg.” 

Abby kept silent as the pilot was beginning his approach to the landing pad at the logging camp.

They were soon down. Jeremy did his shutdown checks while the EMTs gathered the three rescuees up and did health checks on them.

Abby was fine. Flower’s blood pressure was up a bit and Bright was a bit dehydrated. Otherwise, they were fine, if a bit dirty and a lot smelly. Abby admitted that, if she didn’t get a shower soon, she was going to do personal damage to someone.

Bright went one way and Flower and Abby went another. The ladies were met by an older woman in flannel and jeans. “Hey, there. Name’s Lucy. You look okay. Eat or shower?”

Abby moaned, “Shower, please. There’s no way I could possibly eat when I’m this dirty. And clean clothing. I don’t care what it is.”

Flower nodded. “Oh, please. Shower. And something clean. I don’t care if it’s a jumpsuit.”

Lucy chuckled, a rich, friendly sound, “Okay, girls. This way. I’ve got you all set up. We’ve got a slop chest that you can pick from. No bras, but there’s a couple of packs of underpants. Shampoo is Suave, so’s the body wash.” She turned on the master valve which started all the showers in the communal shower room.

Flower shook her head. “I don’t care if it’s lye soap, just as long as I’m clean again. But ... what’s a slop chest?”

Lucy explained that it was just a box of clothing and such that they kept for people who came up short. “It’s mostly lost and found stuff. Good stuff that someone lost. We usually donate it to Goodwill at the end of the season. I washed it all up just a couple of days ago. Help yourself.”

Abby dropped her pack on the floor. “We’ve both got clothing, but it’s all filthy, so I’ll be glad of anything. Thanks.”

Lucy nodded at a door. “Laundry facilities are through there. I’ll do it for you if you like.”

Flower started to refuse but Abby jumped in with, “Oh, please. I’ll love you forever.” She started stripping off. “Oh! Excuse me.”

Lucy laughed. “Twenty years in the Army broke me of body-shy.” She eyed Abby’s neck. “Nice tat.”

“Thank you.” Abby tossed the last of her things on top of her pack and stepped into the shower. “Oh. My. God.”

Flower followed suit and Lucy laughed at her moan of pleasure.

Lucy just picked up the packs and took them into the laundry room. She hoped they’d be able to sort their things, as she was just dumping everything into a pile, sorting by need and loading machines. 

It didn’t take her long to realize that Abby’s things were mostly military surplus or wannabe, while Flower had definitely civilian. She sorted things by washing requirements and loaded up the machines. She was going to stay close in case either woman needed something.

Abby wasn’t worried about Flower saying something about her tattoos, she figured the woman had enough sense to at least keep her mouth shut. Flower did. She noticed but didn’t look, in the way of people used to communal living. She asked, “Pass that body wash when you’re done, will you, Abby?”

Abby squirted a handful out and passed it over. “Oh, man, I’m so glad to be clean. Amazing how much you miss the simple things. Like a potty.”

Flower agreed, “Me too. I’m so not a bear. The woods are lovely, but I like a real ladies’ room.”

Abby started on her hair, remarking, “I’d settle for a military-style port-a-potty.”

“True. Even an oriental squat is better.” Flower finished washing, wrapped a towel around herself and went to the slop chest to rummage for something to wear.

They found things to wear, Abby grabbing a pair of jeans, Henley, and flannel shirt while Flower had to settle for jeans, a flowered shirt, and cardigan. Underwear was problematical, but Abby happily took a pair of boxers with skulls on them; Flower sighed over the choice of boxer briefs or tighty-whities. 

When they were finally dressed, they went into the laundry room to find Lucy just putting things in the dryers. She looked them over and smiled. “Well, you look a hundred per cent better. Come on, I’ll take you to the mess.”

.

Meanwhile, on the mountain, Gibbs and party were trotting along at a good pace.

“AJ, we makin’ good time?” Gibbs had his opinion but was, more and more, checking with Tony. Their skill sets were similar, with a few exceptions that made them a very well rounded duo.

“Yeah, real good. Let’s stop just a sec so I can check the GPS and map. You do a compass and map and we’ll compare.”

They did their checks and came out within a half mile of each other. 

Gibbs pointed, “If we cut that switch back, and that one, we can cut an hour off our time.”

Tim offered, “We better look before we make a decision. If it’s just a scramble down a hillside that a truck or something couldn’t make, we do it. If it’s really rocky or loose, take the long way.”

Tony nodded. “My thoughts exactly. And while we’re stopped ... Jimmy, time to redistribute your stuff. You’re carrying too much for the pace we want to set.”

Jimmy just nodded his agreement; he was beginning to feel the weight. “Okay, sounds good to me. I’ve got three modules that weigh about ten pounds each. If each of you takes one, that’ll put us all at about the same load. But ... why don’t we cache the whole mess, except for our fanny packs? Take only a poncho, food, water, and minimal medical gear. We’re looking at three to five hours with the load, two to three without.”

Gibbs smacked himself in the head. “Damn it. Stupid me.”

Tony did the same. “Really. I’m so use to being in the asshole of nowhere that I didn’t even think of that. We’re within yelling distance of civilization, no one’s going to shoot at us, and we’re ... Here, give me that.” he reached out for Tim’s pack.

Tim and Jimmy both handed over their stuff, except for what they really wanted with them. Gibbs climbed up a tree and hoisted everything up. He tied it to a limb and scrambled back down. Then he carefully marked the location of the cache on his map, for later retrieval of their gear.

Jimmy asked, “What I’d really like to know is, why haven’t they driven up for us?”

Tim answered that one. “Look at the excuse for a road. The base camp is probably out of operation until the trees grow back. No equipment. They came up in choppers or big trucks that can’t get through. They were probably expecting a bunch of scared civilians, huddling around a scrap of fire. So they were ready to take us all out by chopper, not wheels. So ... let’s put wheels under this bitch and go.”

They took off again, taking only about five pounds of gear; a bit of food and water, maps and such, and dry socks. They also kept their ponchos with liners.

None of them even thought about the distance as being too far, or too hard. The only easy day was yesterday, and tomorrow was going to be a bitch. So they trotted on, taking shortcuts, after looking them over carefully and checking with both maps to be sure they weren’t going toward a cliff.

They were about halfway down the mountain when it started raining, cold, drizzly stuff that crept down their necks despite the poncho hoods. 

Gibbs eyed the sky and said, “Well, thank you so much.”

Tony, Tim, and Jimmy silently agreed. But they kept up the pace.

The only problem occurred when they took one of the agreed-upon shortcuts. It turned out to be very slick in one place and they all fell. Or rather, Jimmy fell and took the rest of them with him, bowling ball style. 

He’d been at the end of the line which put him highest on the hill. He slipped in a small summer spring and fell into Tim, Tim fell and slid into Tony, who flailed a bit then slid on his ass right into Gibbs. They all wound up at the base of the hill, laughing their asses off. They were muddy and soaked, but no one was hurt beyond some bruised dignity. They scrambled to their feet, checked their GPS and maps, and headed off again.

.

Abby was happy to find that the mess was filled with people. Most of the men and women who’d come up to do a foot search were still here, waiting for transport back down the mountain. She and Flower were greeted with whistles and cheers. Abby bowed, smiling, then went to the line to get some breakfast. The people offered to let her jump the line but she refused, saying, “No, thanks. You’ve all come up here to help me; I can wait. Just don’t eat it all.” This was met with laugher by the group.

Flower didn’t see any reason to wait and calmly jumped the line, earning herself a look from Abby. She took her tray and went to sit down; people moved around so she could have a chair at the main table.

Abby, on the other hand just found an empty place at a side table and asked, “Can I sit here?” 

“Sure. Park it.” The man smiled at her then offered, “Don’t worry about your friends. Too bad we can’t get up the mountain for them, but they’ll be okay until the weather clears.”

Abby smiled around a mouthful of pancakes. She chewed and swallowed, then told the ranger, “I’m not. They’ll be down before we know it. I’m expecting them in less than four hours. The only reason we were going so slow was Flower, Bright, and I aren’t in shape to travel fast in any terrain. They’re all SEALed up.” At the ranger’s puzzled look she explained. “Not sealed like ... like seal a box. SEAL like Navy. Only, Gibbs is a Marine, retired, but still.”

The whole table had been hanging on her explanation. You could see shoulders relax and worried expressions fade away.

“Well, now, that’s good to hear. If they’re all trained, they really have it made. I bet they’re holed up somewhere, warm and dry, waiting for us to come get them. We’re bringing up some ATV’s; that road is more overgrown than road.” 

Abby got a look at his name tag then said, “Ranger Wilson, they’ll be here in less than four hours. I bet. They’re not going to sit around to be rescued, no offense to you; they’ll rescue themselves and look very satisfied about it.”

The conversation continued while Abby made friends with the whole table.

Flower, on the other hand, thought the men at her table were very standoffish, the women as well. She was just too ‘city’ for the people. They were polite, made sure she had what she needed, but kept their distance a bit. She’d started out by complaining about the heavy food, wanting fruit and tea, instead of what was offered. She soon shut up, not knowing how to fix what she’d inadvertently broken. 

Bright, who was also sitting at the table, eating bacon and eggs, just sighed. He had had hope for Flower but it seemed she hadn’t really learned anything. She’d just taken hints from him, or Abby, and gone along to get along, as the saying went.

He shook his head sadly, some people would never learn, but he had her notes and his. She’d already begun redacting hers, but he could read that shiny ink through the marker. It just made him sad. 

The man sitting next to Bright patted his shoulder. “It’ll be okay. Don’t worry. She’ll either think about whatever it is and get over it, or she’ll wind up marginalized. You’ll see to that, I think.” He reached down the table. “Have some more coffee.”

Bright nodded. “I’m going to have a bit of a conversation with my supervisor, then another with NCIS HR people. Hell will be raised. Things will change.” He smiled. He was the senior trainer and his word carried weight. Not a whole lot, but, he hoped, enough.

He returned to his food with a slight smile. He was hoping for great things; he’d be satisfied with change.

They were soon ready for their drive down the mountain via a company van. Bright and Flower were glad to go. Abby flatly refused, returning to the mess hall instead. She was a bit disgusted to realize that both Bright and Flower hadn’t thanked anyone for doing their laundry. She scrupulously thanked Lucy for her clean clothing then tucked everything back away.

.

A few people were hanging around out in the lumber yard, waiting for a way back, or just gossiping. One man raised his head then yelled, “Everyone ... shut up! I hear something.”

It was faint and indistinguishable, but definitely human voices, chanting or singing something.

As they came closer, the chant changed but it was still hard to understand.

Finally a man said, “My God, they’re singin’ cadence. What the ...?”

Abby popped out the door, cheering madly.

Just then, the group of men topped the crest of the ridge and began the descent to the camp. 

They were moving faster than anyone would have thought possible, unless they were Spec Ops of some sort. 

It wasn’t long before they marched right up to the porch of the mess. Tony called, “Hey! Anyone looking for us?”

They were immediately swarmed by EMTs, Sheriff’s Deputies, and Rangers.

Tony tried to resist the man who insisted on pulling his shirt off but failed when Gibbs smacked his hands and said, “Just go with it. They see what they see.”

He shrugged to help the EMT get his shirt off while saying, “Okay, okay. But no puking ... seriously.”

The man who’d pulled off Tony’s shirt gulped and whispered, “Oh, shit.” His partner poked him and shook his head. There were a few gasps as people got a good look but no one said anything and Tony ignored them.

Tim just grumbled, “If you take it off, it’s staying off until I get a shower. And could we maybe take this inside, it’s gonna rain again.” This was supported by renewed drizzle. The EMTs dragged everyone into the mess. 

Abby trotted behind, grinning. She crowed, “See! I told you.” Several people agreed that, yes, she had told them.

Each man was taken to a table then surrounded by an EMT team who did a quick assessment. The general diagnosis was; wet, muddy, hungry, and tired. The cure was prescribed as: shower, dry clothing, and lots of food.

One of the rangers took the four men to the shower room and offered them the slop chest. 

Tony just dropped the shirt and blouse he’d been holding and started stripping off, Gibbs, Tim, and Jimmy joined him. The whole pile of clothing disappeared, as one of the men had just announced, “I’m taking all your shit to wash. Any objections, holler now.” No one hollered, so he took everything in a huge basket and went to do wash, military style. 

They were just finishing their showers when they heard Remy yell, “I don’t give a flying fuck. Where is he, damn it?” followed by rapid footsteps. 

Remy charged into the showers, grabbed Tony in a bear hug and announced, “I don’t give a damn how womanish I look. You’re not so much as takin’ a shit without me there to smell it. Seriously.”

Tony pushed him off gently. “Okay, man, okay. Just let me get dry and dressed.”

Remy gave Tony a towel with a sheepish expression on his face. “Well, okay. But ... really ... fuckin’ crashed? How the hell do you get yourself into this shit?”

“No idea. Just lucky, I guess.” Tony laughed lightly but his expression told its own tale.

Dean and Cosmo were also there, standing by for their turn. After manly hugs all around they went to the mess.

Since Abby had alerted them that showers were over, the cooks were at their stations, ready to make more food. Since the breakfast service was over they’d agreed to ‘burn to order’. 

Tony eyed the different stations, said, “Yes, please,” and waited. 

One of the cooks started waffles, while another asked, “Eggs?”

Tony just grinned and said, “Over easy, if it’s no trouble.”

It wasn’t and he was soon served with eggs, bacon, sausages, waffles with syrup and butter, hash browns and biscuits. 

The cooks realized, as they made Tony’s food, that no one was going to be particular, so they just made massive amounts of everything and started serving. They didn’t even make them go through the serving line, they just brought everything to the table in big stainless steel pans.

Gibbs sat at the head of the table; everyone else settled along the table and waited. Gibbs served himself then handed the pan to his right. “Pass it back and forth across the table. I do not want Tim and Cos shorted.” He grinned at Abby. “You, on the other hand...”

No one said anything much about that, it was one of Gibbs’ standard warnings. No one took offense and no one took more than their fair share. They could always get more if they wanted it.

Tony moaned softly. “Did not realize how much I missed eggs. Man these are good.” 

Gibbs broke his own rule and mumbled around a mouthful of sausage. “And toast. Gimme.” He held out a hand for the plate of toast that was making the rounds.

One of the cooks brought yet another plate of toast, along with a huge jar of grape jelly. “Forgot the jelly. Here you go.” He put it down and got himself out of the way of the grabs for the jar. 

Tony got it first and dug out a spoonful; he plopped it on his plate then passed the jar across the table. Everyone took some, with a bit of an argument between Dean and Cosmo about who ate more. 

The jar made a second pass when the cook’s helper brought out a tray of biscuits. The butter was in a large crock and they emptied that too.

It wasn’t long before the food was all gone. The cooks folded up the kitchen and turned off the stoves and ovens. The head announced, “Okay, people, kitchen is closed. Everyone find transport back down the mountain.” He then went to lock the back door and do his checklist.

Tony leaned back in his chair and sighed. “Well, that was good.” He stood up easily. “Let’s get our asses off this fuckin’ mountain.”

As they were headed out the door a man called, “I got your stuff, where do you want it?” It turned out that he’d ridden his ATV down from the top camp and gotten their stuff on the way down.

Gibbs thanked him and said, “Just dump it in a pile, we’ll sort it in a few.”

They joined a line just outside the main office and found out that people were being taken down the mountain in Kaiser Jeep M35A2’s, referred to as deuce and a half’s― each truck was capable of carrying two and a half tons of cargo, or thirty-five passengers. It was the sort of truck every army movie ever called a troop carrier. 

As the company seemed to have sent every truck in the state, they were soon on their way down the mountain. They’d refused the offer of a chopper ride as wasteful of fuel and air time. It would also have meant they’d have had to wait breakfast; everyone had agreed that breakfast was more important. 

The ride down the mountain was accomplished in short order.

Tony hopped out of the tailgate and started handing packs out. Gibbs took his with a grin. Abby gave a silly curtsey. The rest of the group just took their packs and lined up. 

Tony nodded. “Okay. Let’s get the flock out of here.”

Abby eyed the crowd at the Ranger Station with disfavor. “Is there some way to avoid all that? I want to go home.” She was whining and didn’t care one bit.

Gibbs glanced around then pointed. “There. Let’s go.” He led the way to a side door of the station and knocked. 

It popped open quickly and a ranger let them right in, saying, “Get in, quick. Don’t blame you for not wanting anything to do with that goat rope.”

Tony shrugged. “We just want to get home to DC. Help a fella out?”

The ranger nodded. “Sure. We’re just glad to see you back down the mountain. Any idea what the hell happened?”

Tim shook his head. “Nope. And no hope of finding out without our phones.”

Ranger Davis shook his head. “I heard about that bit of stupidity. What the fuck were you thinking?”

Jimmy answered that one. “That Director Vance threatened all our jobs if we didn’t cooperate. Last time anyone gets my phone ... or my gun. Lucky we didn’t have to turn them over too. Stupid, ass-kissin’, squirrel-huggin’ jackwad.”

Gibbs blinked for a second while Remy asked, “Vance or one of those Life Style Advisors?”

Tim interjected, “Either, both, don’t give a fuck.”

They had reached the Head Ranger’s office by now. He was snickering a bit as the hall had echoed like crazy. Their complaints had been heard all over the building, as none of them had bothered to keep their voices down.

They grumbled a bit more, with Tim describing Flower and Bright, rather unkindly, as passive-aggressive PC Nazis and tree-hugging, squirrel-kissing dingbats.

Remy added ‘flaming liberal craptards,’ and Cosmo offered, ‘Head-up-ass liberal anal-retentive jackwad’.

Abby managed, ‘entitled, self-satisfied numbskulls’ before they all started laughing.

.

Ranger Martin took the call with relief and called the phone tree to let everyone know that the group was all safe. He was also happy to hear that they were all in good spirits. He wasn’t that happy to hear that they were avoiding the press. That meant that he had to make a statement. 

He sat down to write up a statement. He’d read it to the radio over the telephone and hope it would be good enough. He doubted that. There was way too much publicity, but he did think having anyone in that group of men on TV wasn’t a good idea. He decided to include the fact that they needed their appearance kept secret in case they needed to go undercover again. 

The radio station was very happy to cooperate with the rangers on the whole thing, since they’d been granted an exclusive. The TV stations weren’t that happy, but settled for the hourly anchors reading the statement then discussing the whole thing to death.

.

Gibbs eyed Tony. “Okay, AJ, how the hell do we get out of here without getting mobbed? I hate reporters.” He peeked out the window at the milling crowd.

Remy thought for a moment then said, “We just walk out the back. There’s a bus there. I bet we can get the Rangers to drive us somewhere.”

It didn’t take long to make arrangements with the local airport for an airtaxi to take them to Helena. From there, they’d get military transport back to DC. 

Abby bitched and moaned about the lack of facilities on the C-130. Tony snickered then said, “Yeah, it’s bad, but think about this ... there’s no bushes in the Sandbox ... or the Rockpile.”

Abby snorted. “I know there’s some.”

Remy laughed, “Very damn few. And they’re usually booby trapped.”

There was general laugher and some comments that led to Abby pouting, for about two minutes.

Tony went off into the depths of the airport. He returned about ten minutes later to say that they were lucky, in one way: they had a ride. But it wasn’t leaving for four hours. So they did what everyone military did on a layover: they slept.

It didn’t take them long to get to the hangar where they were to board. Tony spoke with someone, then led the way to a corner. “We can flop here until takeoff.”

Gibbs got out his sleeping bag and spread it on the floor; Tony put his on top of it. Remy opened his and held it in his hands while Gibbs flopped down on the doubled bags. Abby watched this with interest. Gibbs patted the bags, “Abby. Here.” She stripped off her boots and lay down beside him, snuggling up happily. 

Tony took Abby’s other side, then Remy lay down next to him, tugging the other bag over them. 

Tim and Jimmy doubled their bags and lay down on that with Dean and Cosmo. They covered with another sleeping bag. They all used their packs as pillows. Ignoring the clatter and chatter from around them, they slept until their flight was called. 

“Excuse me, sirs. Excuse me, you need to wake up.” The loadmaster kicked Gibbs' feet gently. 

Gibbs opened one eye, reholstered his sidearm and jabbed Tony in the ribs. “AJ.”

Tony groaned, “Awake. I am. Really.” 

Everyone got up and started putting up their sleeping bags. The loadmaster politely ignored having a 9mm pointed at him and said, “When you’re done you can board. There’s no other pax on this run until St. Louis. We might be rerouted to Chicago, but I doubt it. Need anything like the head or anything, do it now.” He hurried off to finish his duties.

Abby sighed, “I’m going. How long is the flight?”

Tim frowned. “About five ― six hours, since we’re stopping once. Unless we get rerouted.”

Jimmy scowled, “Why aren’t there more passengers?”

Remy shrugged. “Who knows? We’re goin’ the wrong way? No one wants to ride with the load, whatever it is.”

Cosmo nodded. “It’s all good. Plenty of floor to stretch out on. No one trippin’ over your feet.”

Dean nodded. “Too right.”

They were interrupted by a voice yelling, “Get your fuckin’ asses on board.”

They shouldered their packs and trotted to the door. Tony boosted Abby up and the rest of them just made a long step into the doorway. An airman pointed, “Put your shit there. We’ve got 12 web seats set up, take your pick. Be ready for taxi and takeoff in ten.” He saluted, then hurried off to do something or other.

Tony just kicked his bag under a seat and plopped down. The rest followed suit, except for Abby who had to investigate the seat. She was settled in place by a voice yelling, “Ma’am, sit the fuck down. We can’t taxi until you do.”

Abby just jumped up, waved to the man and sat down. Gibbs helped her fasten her seat belt. They began taxiing the second she was settled. 

Abby loved flying, as a general rule; she did not like tourist class. When she flew, she paid the difference between business class, which NCIS would pay for, and first class. This, however, was entirely different. “Yay! We’re in the air. But ... I didn’t get to potty before we left.”

Gibbs eyed her with disgust. “What the hell, Abs. You went before we left the terminal.”

“Doesn’t make any difference, takeoff always makes me have to go.” Abby fished around in her ruck for a bit. “Ok, now all I need is a corner.” She waved her Biffy, then trotted off to find a corner. An airman pointed to a spot behind a pallet then stood between Abby and the main part of the hold. When she was finished, he held a bio-hazard bag open for her to ‘make her deposit’. “Thanks so much.” Abby grinned at the airman.

Airman Jones decided to just ask. “Ma’am, who are those men?”

Abby pointed and explained who everyone was. “We crashed in the middle of WTHC. It’s a long story. Now we’re headed back to DC. Coffee?”

Airman Jones grinned. “SEALs and a Marine, plus three feds? You bet. Be about fifteen.”

“Come get me when it’s time and I’ll help you carry it. Bet they’re asleep as soon as they have a cup.” Abby trotted back to her seat, pigtails bouncing.

While Abby had been taking care of business, Gibbs had settled back in the web seat, belts fastened, and gone to sleep. Tony and Remy were also asleep, leaning on each other like kids. Cosmo was reading a paperback that he’d bought in the terminal. Tim and Jimmy were frankly sacked out, stretched out across the aisle; Dean had disappeared. Abby wasn’t too worried, he couldn’t go far.

It wasn’t long before Dean returned, flopped down by Cosmo and started snoring.

Abby shook her head. She wondered how the hell they could all snore like asthmatic truck drivers, except for Gibbs, and not get themselves killed. She decided it didn’t matter, they managed. She didn’t realize that they only fell that deeply asleep when they felt safe. 

Airman Jones nodded to his buddy to go ahead of him, seeing a gun pointed at his sergeant's face was too close for him. They carried the coffees in cardboard trays, all black, with packets of sugar and powdered creamer on the side. 

This wasn’t something that was usually done, but the complement of pax was so small that it didn’t seem fair to take coffee to the cockpit crew and leave everyone else out.

Abby nodded to the men. “I’ll wake Gibbs, just give me a sec.” She accomplished this by poking him in the thigh with her toe. “Gibbs. Coffee.”

Gibbs sat up, held out a hand, accepted a cup and settled in his seat. “Thanks.”

The two airmen handed around coffee then went into the cockpit to give the last of the cups to the flight crew. Everyone settled in a seat to drink their coffee, enjoying the hot drink and a chance to relax.

After coffee everyone went back to sleep, Abby included. She just flopped down between Dean and Tony and curled up. Gibbs tossed a blanket over the three of them then put his feet on the seat across the aisle and nodded off himself. One of the airmen told his friend, “They look like a pile of puppies.”

His friend replied, “If the puppies are Rottweilers. I’m not wakin’ them up. You do it.”

“Bet when the time comes we don’t have to.”

And they didn’t. They landed in St. Louis, only to find that the plane was rerouted to Dallas, TX. Tony refused to deal with a reroute that far out of their way so they caught a different flight and settled in with screaming kids, frazzled mothers, and exhausted men. As Remy philosophically remarked, “Same ol’, same ol’.” No one managed to get much more sleep, but the flight was only two and a half hours, takeoff to landing, so they settled into a circle and played cards. Abby cleaned them all out, to much bitching and complaining from the SEALs, except for Tony, who’d advised them not to play with her. “Poker face, man, poker. Woman is as bad as Gibbs.”

Tony and Gibbs had both refused to play, but they’d kibitzed, offering bad advice and groaning over hands after they were played. 

The landing went as all landings do, and the plane taxied to the hangar. Everyone scrambled to get off, except for their group. They stayed in place until the plane was nearly empty, then they got their rucks and headed for the door. The hanger was chaos as mothers attempted to corral their children and said children attempted not to be corralled. The people in the military waded through this mess with long-suffering expressions on their faces, headed home, or outbound to some sandy wasteland. 

Gibbs ordered, “Form up.” Everyone scrambled to get into line, two wide; except for Abby, who didn’t have a clue. She giggled a bit when Gibbs grabbed her arm and tucked her into the group next to Tim. They reformed, then headed off, dodging the crowd by cutting along the outer walls. 

They reached a clear area just outside the hangar and Gibbs called a halt. “Ok, people, we need to figure out how to get out of here. AJ?”

Tony shrugged. “Up to you, Boss. I have to make a call and get accommodations or I’m gonna be rackin’ out in a ditch.”

Gibbs grunted, “Think I forgot? Not a chance. You an’ Tim’ll be with me until you figure something else out. Come on. We’ll just have to find a taxi bus.”

It didn’t take them that long to find one, all they had to do was call for a shared van from one of several companies. Tim did the honors with a burn phone that he had purchased in St. Louis. The van showed up in about twenty minutes; the driver grinned, “Sorry it took so long to get here. I had to go through inspection, but it would have taken longer if I wasn’t in the area anyway. Where to?”

Gibbs gave Abby’s address then told the driver his; Jimmy gave his address. They all got into the van and settled in quietly. They were all tired, the flight had done them all in.

Gibbs mumbled wearily, “Crash.”

Tony agreed, “So right.”

Abby, seated in the front with the driver, whispered, “When we get there just pull in. I’ll sneak out. Don’t lean over them or shake them when you get to Gibbs’ place, just tell them they’re home.” She slipped him a twenty then snuggled down to close her eyes until they got to her place.

.

Abby trotted up her steps and unlocked the door; she was so glad to be home. She dumped her ruck on the floor by the door and stripped as she headed for her bedroom. A trail of clothing told its own tale. She grabbed an old ‘Property of the Marine Corps’ t-shirt off the back of the door, dragged it over her head and fell into bed. She was asleep before she finished dragging the covers up.

.

The drive from Abby’s place to Jimmy and Ducky’s took about fifteen minutes by the back ways and shortcuts the driver used. Jimmy climbed out and headed for the front door, greeted by Ducky with a smile and a pat on the back. It was obvious that Ducky had every intention of giving Jimmy a poke and prod. Jimmy smiled wearily, nodded at something Ducky said and disappeared behind the red door of the town house.

.

 

Gibbs started awake, causing Dean to flail in his sleep. The driver stepped back and called, “It’s okay. We’re just home. Wake up.”

Tony grumbled softly then opened his eyes. “We there?”

Remy grunted, “Yeah,” then scrabbled for his ruck.

The driver announced, “Everyone out. I’ll hand out your stuff,” but no one really listened to him. They just grabbed the nearest ruck and headed for the door. Gibbs slipped the man a twenty and followed. Tony used his Navy-issue credit card to pay the fare and followed. 

Gibbs dropped the pack he was carrying on the floor by the door, shucked his boots and headed for the stairs. “Couch, recliner, take your pick. We’ll sort sleeping tomorrow. Night.” The rest of the residents of GHQ dropped their packs, shucked their boots and followed Gibbs up the stairs.

Tony and Tim knew exactly what Gibbs meant and didn’t do more than shove a bit. Tim wound up in the recliner he liked best, while Tony got the couch. They also shucked boots and belts, unzipped and unbuttoned until they were comfortable, then fell asleep. They didn’t wake up when Gibbs came back down five minutes later with blankets and pillows. He covered them, tucked pillows under their heads and ambled back up the stairs.

Ten minutes later the house was filled with the soft snores of six weary men.  
...

notes:

I know even a small plane wouldn’t be allowed to take off with only the pilot, but I’ve seen small companies get away with all sorts of things because no one is checking up. Just go with it. 

 

And I’m posting this just because I love it.  
The Lord is my Pilot, I shall not drift. He guides me across the dark waters. He steers me in deep channels. He keeps my log. He pilots me by the star of holiness for His name's sake. Yea, though I sail 'mid the fenders and tempests of life I shall dread no danger for He is near me. His love and care shelter me. He prepares a harbor before me in the homeland of eternity. He anoints the waves with oil, my ship rides calmly. Surely sunlight and starlight shall favor me on my voyages and I will rest in the Port of our Lord forever. 

Marine smile, SEAL smile - cut throat


End file.
